


A Past That Haunts

by Dark_Saturn



Series: X-men Dungeons and Dragons Campaign [2]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Saturn/pseuds/Dark_Saturn
Summary: Dani, having recovered from her ordeal from her near death experience, now has to deal with the perils of public school. Her new personality isn't lost on her fellow classmates and soon trouble brews as Dani's experiences angry outbursts of violence in her day to day life. Though she tries not to dwell on parts of her remembered past, it seems that it has other ideas, reminding everyone that a past can haunt whether you want to remember or not.This is original work involving Dani slowly growing up and learning more about herself. She also meets Max, son of Gambit and Mystique, (another OC and my DMs character in the campaign) and becomes a bit of an 'older' sister to him.
Series: X-men Dungeons and Dragons Campaign [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982410
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Wanna know what’s worse than having , not one, but two near death experiences in the same day? The freaking recovery! It’s been over a month since I awoke from my week long self induced coma, the backlash for saving my adoptive mother Jean’s life, and my blood tests are FINALLY back to normal. Well, at least normal compared to my blood tests from two years ago when they found me, naked and alone, in the woods with no memory of who I was. “Looks like I was right about the significant differences in your protein levels”, Jean says in relief upon looking at the results. “It would appear you will need to consume large quantities in order to maintain your healing factor when you over do it, especially since your body is still growing.”

The past couple of weeks, I had been experiencing cases of extreme fatigue after doing simple physical activity, such as walking up and down the stairs. I assumed it was a result of the two weeks bedrest Jean put me on prior, so I didn’t mention it. It was only after Storm witnessed me pass out on the stairs and informed Jean immediately that I found out I was wrong. Due to Jean’s fear I was having a relapse, she put me through brain scans and, when the results came back normal, ran bloodwork. During the testing, I got scolded and told to tell her if I think something may be wrong, but I preferred the scolding out of more bedrest. During the end of the first week, I started getting antsy and Logan, during one of his bedside visits, commented that he would be climbing the walls if he was stuck in my shoes.

“Guess I’m staying on that protein rich diet you made for me”, I reply before jokingly adding, “guess it’s a great thing I’m not a vegan, otherwise that would suck.” “There are plenty of protein rich vegan friendly foods”, a male voice from the med lab’s doorway informs me. I glare at the owner of the voice, a scowl forming on my face as I snap, “I know that Scott, but most of them taste like crap.” I put extra emphasis on his name, which makes him frown in disappointment. “Dani”, Jean warns, “be respectful like I asked.” “Yes Mama”, I mumble, looking at my feet. Just last week, Jean and Scott officially adopted me as their daughter and, while I was ecstatic about Jean being my mother, I wished Scott hadn’t become my adoptive father. I continue to make this point frequently by refusing to call him by anything but his name when I address him. “Are you still bitter that I agreed to adopt you with Jean”, he asks and I retort, “are you still breathing?” Jean sighs, realizing this is going to turn into another argument, tells him about my latest blood test results as a way to change the subject.

“Can I restart my training now that my test results are back to normal”, I ask eagerly. “Let’s start with school first”, Scott answers, “despite making up the missing work while you recovered, you are still severely behind your classmates.” I let out a groan. “I hate school and never want to go back”, I shout in defiance, making him let out his own groan. After my first near death experience, the Professor noticed I was becoming more ‘headstrong’, but after the second one, my personality did a complete 180. I no longer was the meek, scared girl they found two years ago that had no confidence. Now, I was defiant, headstrong, more sure of myself, and no longer afraid to speak my mind. The Professor theorizes that the trauma of almost dying may have reawaken my original personality that had long since been suppressed by Stryker’s abusive conditioning and that it shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Scott, on the other hand, wants my newfound attitude to be Logan’s fault and constantly blames him for being a bad role model. I think it’s because I started idolizing Logan, which Scott clearly doesn’t approve of, but he refuses to admit it.

“You ARE going back to school young lady”, he replies, sternly, “whether you like it or not. It took a LOT to get you enrolled into the elementary school to begin with and, despite your principal’s constant attempts to expel you, the district is giving you the benefit of the doubt that you’ve missed so much school because you have been sick.” He looks at Jean to back him up, and she sighs. “He’s unfortunately right sweetheart. You do need to go back to school”, she responds, gently, and adds, “you know we don’t have anyone equipt to teach elementary and, with you being our youngest student with powers, you would be very lonely”, when she sees me go to protest. I shut my mouth at her logic. “She’s right”, I think, dejected, “most mutants activate their X-gene during their teenage years with the earliest being ten to eleven years old.”

In my, unfortunate, case, my real age is a complete unknown along with most of my past. We have only found out recently that I was one of Stryker’s experiments, a man hellbent on destroying mutantkind, and all his records concerning my time with him are currently at the bottom of Alkali Lake. Because of this, I was stuck being the oldest looking first grader in Bayville Elementary School, which didn’t make making friends any easier. What made matters even worse though, according to Magneto who helped us stop Stryker, my skeleton has been bonded with an indestructible metal called adamantium, just like Logan’s. This metal should be preventing me from being able to grow but, albeit slowly, I manage to grow anyways though I have noticeably not aged for the two years I’ve been at the Institute. This makes guessing my age even harder to determine because, while I should be eleven, I still look nine years old.

Jean, upon seeing my miserable look upon my face assures me calmly, “we won’t make you go back for the rest of the week Dani but, come Monday, you will have to go back to school. “Okay”, I respond in a defeated tone, “but what should I do if the other kids continue to tease me like before?” “You will ignore them or tell an adult”, Scott orders, “the last thing we need is for you to get into a fight.” “The adults don’t care and turn a blind eye to everyone picking one me”, I whine, “and the ‘roll over and play dead’ routine never stopped them before, so why should it now?” “That doesn’t matter”, he answers. “Contrary to what Logan would have you believe, violence is never the answer.” “You’re cleaning the next glue and glitter combo”, Jean mutters under her breath, “Storm and I practically had to scrap if off her last time.” “Really”, he replies, shocked to hear her muttering, “you’d let her start a fight over meaningless pranks?” “No, but if the teasing escalates I don’t want her coming home in tears every day because the ‘pranks’ escalates to physical violence since the other children know they can get away with it”, she retorts back. “That’s my cue to leave”, I think as they start arguing about whether or not I should start defending myself, “maybe if I’m lucky, the Professor will have some reading suggestions for me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani goes back to school and plays catch up for most of the week on her missing work. Friday, she's allowed to participate in recess only for an incident to happen. The biggest bully on the playground decides to mess with her only for him to learn his mistake, the hard way.

My first day back to school after my long absence was a complete nightmare. My teacher, Ms Tennis, made me stay inside during recess to take all my missing quizzes and tests before giving me mandatory ‘extra credit’ to ensure I would pass her class with my peers by the time the school year is over. Thankfully my classmates went back to their usual attitude of pretending I didn’t exist and I was able to make it to Friday without any trouble. It’s during combined recess, that the school has on Fridays to allow the younger students to play with the older students, where all hell broke loose. I was able to join in this recess, since Ms Tennis didn’t have anything else for me to catch up on and, while in line, my sensitive ears picked up the latest gossip from the nearby classes.

“I thought my brother was joking when he said she came back”, “apparently she was sick”, why’d she bother coming back in the first place”, “I’ll make the freak wish she stayed home forever.” That last statement was said by Doug, the biggest, meanest fifth grade boy in the school. I don’t know why Doug hates me, besides the obvious that I’m different and people seem to hate different, but he has made it a game to torment and see what pranks he does to me that he can get away with. I typically pay him no mind but, for some reason, I feel blood boiling anger surge through me at the word ‘freak’. “That’s weird”, I think, putting my thumbnail in my mouth, “I have never gotten mad at his teasing or name calling before. Maybe it will be best if I just hide for recess today.” I have my newest book under my jacket that I plan to read to stay out of trouble, but now I’m wary of where I can hide from my bullies. “Too bad I can’t fly”, I brood, miserably, “no one would ever be able to find me on the roof or in a tall tree.”

The teachers lead us to the playground before releasing us for recess and I quietly slip away from the main play area to the wooded area that surrounds the playground. I look around for a tree I can possibly climb, so I can read Peter Pan, when Doug and his cronies jump me. “Let me go”, I growl, my book dropping out from my jacket onto the ground, “why can’t you just leave me alone?” “Wow, look who’s trying to grow a spine”, one of the boys says, laughing, “did you really expect us to listen freak?” I struggle out of the boys’ grasp with an angry yell to see Doug holding my book. “Peter Pan”, he questions, skimming the book, “there aren’t even any pictures in here so how’s a simpleton like you expected to read it?” “Give me back my book Doug”, I hiss, stalking towards him. “Why should I? We all know you can’t read based upon our siblings in your class telling us how you never read aloud”, he gloats, holding the book high in the air. I lunge for my book, but get nabbed by the other boys and held in place again. “Wow Doug, I have never seen her get mad before”, one of the other boys comments when I glare at Doug, “that book must be important to get her to attempt to fight back.” “You’re right, it makes me wonder what she might try if I destroy it”, Doug says, grinning evilly.

He opens my book once more and grabs a handful of pages, all while continuing to stare at me. “Don’t you dare”, I yell, struggling against my captures again, but he tears the pages out, laughing cruelly at my tears. “Stop it”, I cry, breaking free and in order to try to rescue my book from more abuse. He laughs cruelly, shoving me into a tree before ripping out more pages. He proceeds to shred these pages into smaller pieces, throwing them at me in a confetti as his buddies laugh at my anguish. “This has to be the easiest way we have ever made you cry”, Doug declares, leaning in close to my face and forcing me to smell the tuna fish on his breath. Though tears still fall from my eyes, a murderous anger comes over me and I state coldly, “give me back my book or else.” “Or else what”, he asks, “what’s a puny freak like you going to do?”

Next thing I know, Doug is on the ground screaming bloody murder as blood flows through his fingers from clutching his nose. His cronies scream in fear, running away as I pick up my ruined book and as much of the torn pages as possible from the ground. Once that is done, I grip him by the collar of his shirt and lean in close to his ear. “I am not a freak”, I hiss, “and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never bother me ever again.” I drop him at my feet as he lets out a scream of pure terror upon the realization that I mean it and scrambles to run away as well. I snap from my anger, wondering what just happened as I observe Doug screaming in terror with a bloody nose. The recess monitors come with Doug’s cronies a moment later and tell me to go to the principal’s office before I can ask what happened.

I sit in the waiting room of the main office, picturing the look of terror on Doug’s blood spattered face while I wait for Principal Kelly to get back from the nurse’s office. “What happened”, I think, “why was Doug so afraid of me all of a sudden? Did I punch him? All I can remember is him tearing my book to shreds before he started screaming.” I try to remember, even though I know it’s pointless to try to argue my case to the principal, because I know I’m going to have to explain to Jean, Scott, and the Professor later. Nothing comes to me, and I sigh in frustration before asking the secretary if I can borrow her tape dispenser. “Why”, she asks and I show her my torn book. “I’m hoping to be able to fix this”, I answer, sadly. She gives me a look of pity, “I think it would be best if you just got a new book”, she replies, seeing how distraught I am over the damage. I stare at my feet in misery that intensifies when Principal Kelly marches in and tells the secretary to call my parents before entering his office, ignoring me completely. “Typical”, I think, “the bullies get to tell their side and I get punished without a chance to defend myself” when Mrs Ray comes storming into the main office with a look of determination on her face.

“Principal Kelly I am not done with you”, she shouts, entering his office, “I am telling you right now that those boys are lying and you need to get to the bottom of this incident.” The principal closes his door, an effort, most likely, to not have me listen in on the conversation. I roll my eyes, focusing a little on my sense of hearing until I am able to hear what they’re saying through the closed door. “I’m sorry, I have three eyewitness accounts and a terrified student with a bloody nose”, Principal Kelly says, pretending to be apologetic, “but the facts all point to Dani punching Doug in the nose in an attempt to intimidate them to not tell a teacher they caught her destroying a library book.” Mrs Ray scoffs his fake apology, “sir, with all due respect, bullshit. First of all, you and I both know that Doug is a confirmed bully based on other students’ testimonies and second, Doug has a broken nose, not a bloody nose”, she explains before continuing, “are you expecting me to believe Dani, the little girl who frequents my office with complaints of illness to avoid her classmates, broke the biggest fifth grader in our school with her fist? She’s skin and bones! I wouldn’t put it past Doug to get into a fist fight and try to get his friends to pin it on the one student you clearly have it out for.” “I do not have it out for her”, he rebukes defensively, “I have no other way of knowing what happened and, since all the boys’ stories were the same, it leads me to believe one simple thing. Dani hit Doug, end of discussion.”

I end my eavesdropping with a silent groan. “Same old story”, I think, hopelessly, “majority rules whether it’s the truth or not.” I am a little happy that Mrs Ray was fighting to prove my innocence, but that happiness fades upon hearing the secretary say into the phone, “Hi, Mr Summers? Yes, this is Ms Tutnam, the secretary of Bayville Elementary. I’m afraid there’s been an incident involving your daughter that will require you and your wife to come in to speak with Principal Kelly.” She pauses for a bit, listening, no doubt, to Scott yelling what I possibly did now before answering, “there was an altercation between Dani and another student which will be discussed when you arrive. I will inform the principal that you are on your way.” She hangs up the phone and goes to speak with Principal Kelly as I sink in my chair. “Yep, I am grounded and will never hear the end of this”, I think depressedly. “Scott is going to have a field day when they tell him what happened.”

While we wait for Jean and Scott to arrive, Principal Kelly has me come into his office to yell at me for my actions. “You should be made aware that your parents will have to pay the school for the book you destroyed”, he states angrily and I protest in defiance. “Doug was the one tearing up the book which, by the way, is MINE and he shoved me”, I shout, placing my book on his desk for him to see. He looks at the title and replies menacingly, “isn’t this a little advance for you? I have seen your english scores and have a recommendation from your teacher to have you in resource.” “I can read, I just never volunteer to read aloud anymore because my classmates kept making fun of me”, I tell him, “and, before you ask, I don’t remember hitting Doug in any way, shape, or form.” He ignores my complaints as he examines the book, and has no choice but to agree that it most certainly was not a library book like the others claimed, meaning they lied.

“Sir, her parents are here”, Ms Tutnam announces and he dismisses me from his office so he can discuss my fate with my parents. I look at Jean pleadingly as I pass her and hear, “it’s alright sweetheart”, in my head. Mrs Ray is waiting for me by my chair, along with my school bag, and asks to see both my hands. I show her them, allowing her to examine my fingers and knuckles as she tells me softly, “I don’t believe you hit Doug my dear. You would have at least a broken finger to have caused that much damage.” “It doesn’t matter”, I respond, looking at her sadly, “I’m guilty because I’m different, but thanks for trying to defend me. No one ever has before.” “Being different is not a sin Dani”, she states adamantly, “and I believe that someone is innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.” She gets up from her seat next to me and leaves the main office to head back to hers. I stare at my shoes, waiting for the inevitable sound of the principal’s office door opening, not even bothering to try and listen in this time.

When the door finally does open, Jean looks at me with worry and concern while Scott looks downright pissed. Principal Kelly doesn’t look too happy either, but I pay him no mind since Scott yells “get up and get your stuff, we’re going home.” I shrink at his harsh tone, grabbing my backpack off the ground and follow behind Jean and Scott to the car. I get in, ashamed that I had to be sent home, and wait for them to start yelling at me as well. Scott starts the car, quietly stewing, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “He’s probably determining how long and severe to make my punishment”, I think as we leave the school grounds, “with how pissed he is, Principal Kelly must have just told him only the other side of the story.”  


As the Institute comes into view, Scott finally deems it necessary to talk to me. “You are grounded missy”, he shouts furiously as he starts to park the car. “Yes Scott”, I answer quietly and he turns to face me in the back seat. “You are to go to your room”, he orders, “and you are not allowed to stop and talk to ANYONE, you hear me?” “Yes Scott”, I answer, tears forming in my eyes as I get out of the car and run into the house. I’m halfway up the stairs in the foyer when Logan asks, “hey how was your first week back kiddo?” I pause on the stairs, glancing at him at the bottom of the stairs, and his smile fades when he sees I’m crying. “What happened kiddo”, he starts asking in concern, coming towards me, just as Scott storms in with Jean. “What did I just tell you young lady”, he yells, seeing me stopped on the stairs with Logan, “room NOW!” “Hey lay off Scott”, Logan retorts as I flee up to my room with a fresh wave of tears falling on my face, but this time in frustration. I slam my door close, feeling my frustration come to a head, and throw myself face first on my bed so I can scream out my feelings into my pillow without being heard. “What the hell did Principal Kelly do to make Scott put me on house arrest”, I think angrily.

I sit up on my bed and start punching my pillow, imagining the smug face of Principal Kelly with Scott’s angry one on it. The action relieves some of my anger and frustration, but I still scream “now what” when I hear someone knock on my door. There’s a long pause before I feel the calm presence of the Professor enter my head and gently ask, “may I come in?” I open my door with telekinesis, allowing the Professor to enter my room before I slam it again. “Come to yell at me too”, I snap, glaring at him as he wheels himself closer to my bed. “No”, he answers in his calm, soothing tone, “unlike Scott, I have come to hear your side of the story.” He tries to get me to look him in the eyes, asking “what happened Dani?” I meet his eyes and cry with relief when I see no signs of anger or disappointment in them, my own anger fading away. “School sucked”, I answer, “my principal believes my bullies without hearing my side and so does Scott. What’s the point in trying to defend myself?” “Because we all have a right to speak up in defense of ourselves”, the Professor states. “And unlike your principal, I can tell if you’re speaking the truth”, he adds in a teasing tone.

So I tell the Professor the truth about what happened, as best as I can. I falter when I get to the part that involved Doug ending up on the ground with a broken nose because I don’t know how to explain to the Professor that I don’t remember. “What is it”, he asks, sensing my hesitation, and I sob, “they all say I punched him Professor. Everyone, but Mrs Ray, believes I broke Doug’s nose and I don’t know what the truth is. One second he’s ripping my book to shreds, the next second he’s on the ground screaming with blood coming from his nose.” He can sense how upset I am with myself for not remembering and grabs ahold of one of my hands. “Dani”, he says, giving my hand a squeeze, “try to relax. With your permission, I believe I can enter your mind to help see if we can’t fill in the blank space during this event. Unlike your past memories, this should still be fresh in your mind and easier to discern.” “Do you think it will help”, I ask, wiping my eyes with my other hand. “I believe your mind might be unintentionally making you unable to recollect the full events in order to keep you from trouble”, he states, “however, the truth will help far better, whether you hit Doug or not.” “Okay”, I reply, with understanding, “I’ll calm my mind and let you in.” “Try to clear your mind of all thoughts except for the incident”, he instructs soothingly, placing his other hand on the top of my head, “just like we’ve practiced in your telepathy lessons.” I close my eyes, allowing the Professor in, and do as he instructs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani shows the Professor what happens and learns why Scott is pissed. While carrying out her punishment, she meets a stranger having an argument with Rogue. Who is this man, why is Miss Rogue mad, and why is he carrying a baby?

I watch as the memory of the incident starts to play out in my mind from the very beginning of combined recess. “Dani”, the Professor sighs in disappointment as he watches me head off for the wooded area away from the rest of the students. “What have I told you about self isolating yourself away from your fellow classmates”, he asks me. “No one wants to be my friend Professor, you heard what I overheard in line right before recess began”, I answer, looking down. “I’ve taken to trying to hide and not draw attention to myself in hopes that they’ll leave me alone.” “Hiding away from the teachers gives your tormentors easier access to up their pranks though”, he explains as we watch Doug and his cronies begin to gang up on me. “I never thought of it that way”, I mumble. The memory of me has a look of pure anger and hatred, before stating in a cold voice “give me back my book or else.” When Doug calls me a puny freak, I watch in horror as I sucker punches him in the face. As his friends run off we watch as I hiss my threat to Doug and then the look of anger is replaced with that of confusion.

The memory fades and I open my eyes to stare into the Professor’s, still horrified. I avert mine in shame after a second, mumbling, “I did hit him. I do deserve to be punished.” The Professor lifts my face up, so I am forced to look at him again, and I am relieved to see some understanding mixed in with disappointment. “It would appear you tried to take the high road first by asking them to leave you alone and they responded by ganging up on you before destroying your property”, he responds. “However”, he continues more sternly, “that does not condone hitting another classmate.” “But how did I even cause that much damage with one punch Professor”, I ask, confused, “Mrs Ray implied that there was no way I could have done that unless I used a bat or broke my hand.” I feel the Professor search my mind for something for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Dani, you just recently found out that your bones have been bonded with a metal called Adamantium”, he states and I nod, not understanding what that had to do with anything. “Your punch is comparable to being hit with a baseball bat, or worse, due to this metal”, he tries to explain. “It’s virtually indestructible and, even if it could break, with your healing factor any broken bones would be mended in a matter of seconds.” “Oh”, I answer, finally understanding, “because of this metal my fists are basically deadly weapons.” I feel a tinge of anger at Stryker at forcing me to become a living weapon, which the Professor obviously picks up on because he adds, “we never thought we would have to tell you because you never showed any inclination of violent tendencies or angry outbursts before now.” Shame replaces my anger at that statement and avert my eyes again. “However”, he adds softly, “since you clearly didn’t know, I can see what I can do about lessening your current punishment if you can reflect and think of other options you could have chosen to avoid scenarios like this in the future.

“I can already tell you several”, I answer, still ashamed. “I could have stayed in view of the adults for one or walked away from Doug and his goons when he first started bothering. Hitting should only be used as a last ditch effort to escape if they wouldn’t let me go.” “Almost right”, he replies with a half smile, “hitting should only ever be used if your life is in immediate danger. If they don’t allow you to leave, then you can scream for help to draw attention upon them. One thing I have observed about bullies, they don’t like an audience, do you know why?” I shake my head no. “The more people watching, the less likely all their stories will match up”, he answers. “Okay”, I sigh, “but what about cases of self defense?” “Only as a last resort if all other options have failed”, he states, giving me his “don’t argue”, look, “because as you have learned, you can seriously injure people fighting back. Now”, he adds, changing the subject, “I believe Storm would greatly appreciate your help in setting the table for dinner.” I jump off my bed, giving the Professor a quick hug. “Thank you for hearing my side before making conclusions”, I whisper and take off before he can respond.

It’s during dinner I find out why Scott was, and still is, royally pissed off at me and I have to endure his angry glare. “Two weeks of suspension because she punched a known bully in the nose”, Logan says, flabbergasted, “she shouldn’t be punished at all. He struck her first, destroyed her property, and, by the sounds of it, not getting punished for any of it.” “Principal Kelly wanted to expel her outright”, Scott retorts angrily “She’s lucky this is her first time ever hitting another student, if it wasn’t for Jean talking him down she’d be out of school right now.” He turns his attention back to me, “you are extremely lucky you didn’t kill him young lady. That ‘punch’ completely shattered your classmate’s nose and, any harder, you could have caused brain damage. And you”, he remarks, pointing his fork at Logan, “don’t tell MY kid that punching her problems is an acceptable solution.” He puts extra emphasis on ‘my kid’ as a jab at Logan, reminding him that he wasn’t my adoptive father and, therefore, had no authority in this matter. “Knock it off you two”, Storm interjects, clearly annoyed, “did it ever occur to either of you that she may have gotten the idea from how often you two are at each other’s throats?” That silences the argument very quickly as neither of them had a response for Storm.

“The Professor did tell us what really happened”, Jean explains, changing the subject, “he also made a point that you truly didn’t understand how much damage your fist could inflict on someone because of the adamantium.” “My fists are deadly weapons and should only be used if my life is in danger”, I mumble, playing with my food. Logan clearly looks troubled by me calling any part of myself a weapon, but doesn’t say anything as Jean gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Scott and I discussed things with the Professor”, she continues, “and we have agreed to lower your punishment. You will not be confined to your room, but you are grounded from watching tv or movies, being on the computer, unless it’s required for an assignment, and playing your Gameboy. Agreed?” I can tell by Scott’s scowl that he most certainly didn’t agree to this, but answer “I agree.”

The weekend comes and goes quickly with my telepathy and telekinesis lessons, but the first week of my suspension drags on. Jean practically had to hunt down Ms Tennis on Tuesday to get her to give Jean the two weeks of assignments I will be missing during my suspension. I even overhear her tell the Professor that she might have to issue a complaint to the school board about Ms Tennis if she keeps blatantly trying to keep me from passing the first grade. My assignments are hard, but thankfully some of the older students at the Institute are helpful when they see me struggling to complete them with how far I am behind from missing school. “Thanks Bobby”, I say, appreciative of his help in explaining the difference between there, their, and they’re when he spotted me putting the wrong ones in the “complete the sentence” assignment. “It’s really no problem Dani”, he responds with a smile. “You’re going to wish English was this easy by the time you’re in my grade”, he adds, teasingly, “I have an assignment on my current reading of Hamlet. The Professor wants us to write an essay about soliloquies and how Shakespeare used them in Hamlet’s ‘to be or not to be’ monologue.” “What’s a soliloquy”, I ask, curious at what the word meant while marveling at how it sounds rolling off my tongue. “Uh, look it up in the dictionary”, Bobby answers, sheepishly. “This is how it’s spelled”, he adds, writing it on a piece of paper upon realization that I most definitely wouldn’t know how to spell it to look it up. “Okay”, I reply, happy for something else to do other than homework. I spend the next hour reading obscure words out of the dictionary before realizing I should probably head to my room to work on more assignments.

On my way to the foyer, I hear Miss Rogue having a heated argument with a male voice I don’t recognize. “Of course I’m mad”, she yells at a tall man with brown hair and black trench coat I see when I enter the foyer. “What did you think I’d be when you came waltzing in with”, she continues before cutting herself off upon seeing me. “Please, don’t stop on my account”, I retort sarcastically, “I’m just trying to use the stairs so I can go to my room.” The man turns to look at me and it’s then I notice that he’s carrying a baby with fuzzy, light brown hair. I start to head up the stairs, to prove I’ll be out of the way momentarily, when I hear Miss Rogue hiss, “we’ll discuss this later but, mark my words, this isn’t over.” “Someone is clearly in hot water”, I think, stopping to glance back at the man as he watches Miss Rogue storm off. It’s then I notice the baby is staring at me with the most mesmerizing violet eyes that immediately light up when he realizes I’m staring back at him. I roll my eyes, a half smile on my face, and begin to continue my ascent up the stairs when the man asks, “hey kid, do you know where Charles Xavier’s office is and whether or not he’s currently available?”

“Maybe”, I inform him, my smile becoming impish, “guess it depends.” “On what little lady”, he answers, not amused, and I realize he has a funny accent along with almost the same eye color as the boy, save for the tinges of red mixed in with his. “What did you do to make Miss Rogue royally pissed at you”, I answer and he starts to laugh. “Quite the gamble you made kid”, he replies, still laughing, “trying to use my question as a way to answer your own. Did your daddy teach you that?” I scowl, “no Scott most certainly did not because that would require a sense of humor and I don’t care what the adoption papers state, he’s not my father.” “Huh, my mistake”, he answers, a bit embarrassed, “thought you were someone else’s kid. Anyhow, what happens if I decide not to answer and wander around instead?” “Nothing”, I answer, “I was just curious. You don’t have to answer if it’s private. Mama tells me as a telepath, I should always value privacy.”

He looks genuinely shocked by my answer as I take a seat on the stairs. “You’re a smart kid”, he remarks with a grin, pointing at me, “and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Let’s just say a huge mistake was made on my part and leave it at that.” He tries to put his hand on his hip, but quickly uses it to get a better grip on his boy, who chose that moment to start wiggling in his arm. “Stop squirming Maxwell”, he scolds and I close my eyes to concentrate on finding the Professor as he tries to settle the baby. “What is it Dani”, the Professor asks, helping me establish a connection. “There’s a man with red violet eyes, an accent, brown hair, and is carrying a baby”, I answer, sending him a picture of what I’m seeing when I open my eyes. The man is bouncing the baby on his hip, staring at me curiously, and the Professor responds, “thanks for informing me Dani. You can tell Gambit I am available in my office right now.” He severs the telepathic link and I tell the man, Gambit, “the Professor is in his office.” I point down the hall I came from, “there’s a plaque on his door, so you shouldn’t miss it Gambit.” I stand up as he heads in the direction I pointed, ready to head to my room when he says, “hey wait a minute. How’d you know I was called Gambit?” I give him a sly grin and reply, “easy, the Professor told me. I wasn’t kidding when I mentioned being telepathic.” I run up the rest of the way up the stairs to avoid his response and start to wonder, on my way to my room, what he could want with the Professor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani meets Gambit officially at dinner and discovers a new power. After some unforeseen circumstances, she's forced to flee to her room and Logan checks to see if she's okay. Scott, not liking Logan's concern, starts a fight with him but ends up fighting Dani instead.

I wasn’t completely surprised to see Gambit and Maxwell at the table when dinner was ready, but I was surprised that Logan was conversing with him like they were old friends. “How do you two know each other”, I ask out of curiosity, sitting down in my chair. “We’ve helped each other out a few times”, Logan replies, “just always make sure to check your pockets before he leaves.” “Now Logan, I’m respectable now. I don’t do thievery anymore”, Gambit retorts. At him mentioning he was a thief, I blurt out with enthusiasm, “can you teach me how to pick locks?” “You even think about it Gambit, I’ll blast you into next week”, Scott answers, glaring at me in disapproval. “Kill joy”, I mutter, crossing my arms and sinking in my chair, “anything fun is never allowed with you.” Gambit laughs at that, “I think I like this one. What’s your name little lady since I forgot to ask earlier.” “Dani Grey”, I reply, “Jean and Scott’s adoptive daughter.” I apply a bit of attitude to Scott’s name and he snaps, “will you stop acting like it’s the end of the world? With how difficult you have been lately, you’re lucky anyone would want to adopt you.”

Before I can snap back and give Scott a piece of my mind, the Professor enters the dining room. “Ah, I see most of you have met Gambit or remember him”, he says as everyone else joins the table. Gambit chooses a seat across from me, placing Maxwell on his lap, and we start passing the dishes with tonight’s dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and carrots. As usual, Jean makes sure I still get at least a serving of vegetables when she notices I put a quarter of one on my plate. Miss Rogue, with a grimace on her face, asks, “why is Gambit even here Professor?” “He has come back to the mansion to have a stable environment to raise his son, Max”, the Professor replies, cheerfully, “in return, he’s agreed to become our school’s French teacher. Will this be a problem Rogue”, he adds, raising an eyebrow. “No problem at all”, she states moodily, glaring at Gambit who stares at his plate to avoid making eye contact. “Is that why you talk in that funny accent”, I pipe up in wonder, “because you’re from France?” Logan stifles a chuckle as Gambit looks at me in bewilderment. “I take it you’ve never met anyone from New Orleans before”, he says, fixing his reddish violet eyes on me. “Not that I can remember”, I retort, snarkily, “isn’t that somewhere near Louisiana or something?” “Yes, it’s a city located IN Louisiana”, Storm answers. “There are many people who speak French there, but their accents aren’t quite like those you would hear in France.”  
I shrug, cutting into my roast beef, and respond, “oh, okay.” I take a bite just as Gambit asks in a teasing tone, “would you be interested in learning French Dani?” I quickly swallow and respond, “I’m good for now, but thanks for the offer.” His face turns to shock and, after a quick observation of the others, realize they are also staring at me in surprise. “What did I do”, I ask, turning red in embarrassment, “why are you all staring at me?” Miss Rogue breaks the stunned silence by explaining, “Dani, you just understood and spoke French as if it was your native tongue.” Upon seeing the mass confusion on my face she adds, “you didn’t know?” I shake my head. “I thought he asked me in English”, I admit, “how did I speak and understand a language without realizing it?” “Intuitive Multilingualism”, the Professor answers, impressed, “or Omnilingualism”, he adds when I give him a confused look, “is a trait some telepaths can possess.” I continue to stare blankly at him, trying to understand what he’s trying to explain, when he chuckles. “In easier terms, with your telepathy you have the ability to instantly speak and understand any language fluently as if it was your native tongue”, he explains and I yelp, “I’m the universal translator from Star Trek?” He smiles at my analogy, “if that helps you understand, then yes and it’s an incredibly useful gift if you ever find yourself in a scenario where no one speaks English.

“Cool”, I comment in awe when Gambit interrupts. “Based solely upon y'all's reactions, am I safe to assume none of y’all knew she could do that”, he asks, snapping himself out of his shock. “Dani’s powers are still young”, Jean explains to him, “we find that we learn something new about them every day.” She smiles with pride at my new development and, in the momentary distraction I caused, Max grabs a handful of Gambit’s potatoes to munch on them happily. Despite having already one fistfull of potatoes, he reaches out with his out hand to grab more. “Uh”, I start, pointing at Max, “is he allowed to eat that”, desperate to get the attention off of me. Gambit looks down, sees his son going for his plate, and grabs his hand yelling, “Maxwell, how many times do I have to tell you not to steal from Daddy’s plate?” “Looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree”, Logan jokes as Gambit tries to wipe his son’s other hand clean of the mashed potatoes.

“I’ll go into town tomorrow and get him a high chair”, Jean says, “it’ll make feeding him much easier since he’s eating solids and you can eat your dinner with both your hands free.” “Thanks Jean” he replies appreciatively, as he finishes cleaning up Max’s hand, “but I think it’s still early for solids.” He reaches into his trench coat’s pocket and produces a little plastic spoon along with a small jar. “How old is Max”, Storm asks, as he opens the jar, and the worst smell imaginable permeates across the table. “I think I’m going to vomit”, I think, trying to get the smell of cat food out of my sensitive nose. “He’s almost 2”, Gambit answers, starting to feed his son, “why”, he asks when Storm, Jean, and Miss Rogue all facepalm. “He should be eating solids, not baby food”, Scott states, clearly unaffected by the smell. In fact, everyone at the table, save for Logan, don’t appear to be bothered by the smell at all. He’s giving me a worried look, especially when I croak, “can I please be excused”, because my stomach is starting to do flip flops. “Are you sure sweetie”, Jean asks, a bit concerned, “you didn’t eat much.” I nod, too afraid to open my mouth in fear I would puke. “Alright then”, she tells me, and I don’t need to be told twice. I bolt from the dining room and the horrific smell as fast as I can.

I run straight to my room, gagging, and, despite the still chilly, damp April night air, I open my window wide. I inhale a deep breath of fresh air, relieved that the smell of baby food is being replaced quickly by the scent of rain, and lean out my window. I was so focused on clearing my nose, that I didn’t hear Logan until he warns, “careful there half pint, you keep leaning like that and you’ll fall out your window.” “Oops”, I think in embarrassment, “ I was so determined to not puke that I forgot to close my door.” I bring myself back in and close the window before replying, jokingly, “we wouldn’t want that now. Scot would DEFINITELY find a way to blame you.” He chuckles at my joke and asks, “you okay kiddo? It looked as if you were fighting the urge to revisit dinner, and quite possibly your lunch, in the dining room.” I put my thumbnail in my mouth, a nervous habit that almost all the adults can recognize now, and he asks with worry, “okay, what’s got you nervous all of a sudden?”

I try to think of a way to word my question, but instead word vomit, “how do you do it”, miserably. “Do what”, he responds in confusion, crossing his arms. Blushing in embarrassment, I reword my question. “How do you deal with overwhelming smells without vomiting or cutting your own nose off temporarily?” He contemplates for a bit and answers, “I guess I got used to most smells where I don’t typically notice they’re there unless I focus. In most cases”, he admits, “I breathe through my mouth since the Professor doesn’t approve of smoking inside the Institute.” “Wait, that’s why you smoke those cigars”, I say, genuinely surprised, “Scott said it was because you have a tobacco addiction.” He snorts, “contrary to Scott’s, generally wrong, opinion, I don’t smoke or drink because I’m an addict. Hell, since your healing is like mine I wouldn’t be shocked if you also have the luck of never having addiction problems. It burns out of our systems faster than it can affect us.” “Maybe that’s why the tranq darts didn’t work on me that night”, I whisper to myself.

“That night? Do you mean the night the soldiers invaded”, he asks and I nod. “They shot me through my open window and, at first, I felt tired, but it faded away”, I explain, “I thought it was the adrenaline from how panicked I was making it not work.” “Yeah, I think we should…”, he starts to say when Scott interrupts him. “What part of ‘grounded’ did either of you not understand”, Scott shouts and I can hear his footsteps approaching my room. Logan states, calmly irritated, “she looked like she was going to be sick when she bolted because of the baby food. I thought I’d check to make sure she was alright.” Anger rises within when Scott comes into view of my doorway and yells in Logan’s face, “that is NOT your job Logan. I don’t care what Jean says, I don’t want you around Dani.” “Oh yeah asshole”, I snap in rage, “except, unlike you, he actually cares about me. You only came up here to make sure he wasn’t talking to me as opposed to you coming to see if I was okay. And don’t bother lying, I can read your mind”, I add when he goes to protest. Objects in my room start to rattle in response to my anger as I stomp towards him, “furthermore, since Mama says I can talk to Logan, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want”, I finish, my voice filled with venom, “so back the fuck off.” The objects in my room stop rattling and, a second later, I’m telekinetically throwing stuff at him.

He dodges out of the way, making the books I chucked at him hit the wall, and demands, “what the hell has gotten into you lately young lady? Are you looking to be grounded for the rest of the school year?” I don’t deem it necessary to answer, instead I lift my hand and grab a hold of Scott in a telekinetic grip, making him gasp in surprise. I throw him down the hallway towards the foyer’s stairs, hearing a loud crash as he lands on the floor. I begin to try and leave my room, to finish what I’ve started, but Logan blocks my exit. “Listen kid, you don’t want to do this”, he starts to say, but I don’t let him finish. I lift him up with my other hand and send him down the hallway opposite the foyer. Scott’s standing up, as I exit my room, and yells, “enough of this crap”, before taking off his glasses. A red beam of energy shoots towards me from his eyes, but gets stopped by the barrier I raise in defense. He continues to use his laser beams on me, hoping to wear down my defense, and is shocked when I focus my barrier to act like a mirror. His laser beams reflect off the barrier and he gets sent flying by his own attack. I crack my neck and smile, “I’m a lot smarter than you take me for”, as he struggles back to his feet and fumbles to put his glasses back on.

“Scott, what is going on up there”, we hear Jean shout, “don’t tell me you’ve gotten into another fight with Logan.” “Not Logan”, he responds, “it’s Dani, she’s…”, I toss him over the banister with a wave of my hand, cutting him off, and hear an even louder crash. I make it three steps towards the stairs when I’m locked in a bear hug and lifted off the ground from behind. “Let me go”, I scream, “I’ll kill him, I’LL KILL HIM”, as I struggle to break out of Logan’s iron grip. “That’s enough Wildcat”, he snarls in my ear, making sure I don’t wiggle free. I slam my head back, hearing a metallic clunk when it connects with his face. “Really”, he yells sarcastically, “did you forget I’m as hard headed as you?” I howl in rage, struggling harder to break free as he shouts, “try to calm down kiddo, this isn’t you.” Jean, having made it to the top of the stairs, has a look of shock on her face when she takes in the scene of Logan struggling to keep me in his lock. That look of shock snaps me from my rage and my limbs go limp as a wave of exhaustion overtakes me.  
“I’m sleepy”, I mumble, feeling like a weigh a thousand pounds in Logan’s arms. Jean rushes to us, concern replacing her shock as Logan tries to put me down. I start to fall to the ground when he lets go and he quickly catches me, allowing me to lean heavily on him. “What is going on”, she asks Logan and he answers, “I honestly have no clue. This is only the second time I’ve ever seen this happen.” “The second? Logan, she’s NEVER done anything like this before”, she exclaims. “She hasn’t”, he responds, picking me up, “I guess I have some explaining to do later then.” I roll my head onto his shoulder, inhaling his comforting smell of leather and unidentified musk, and feel myself grow even more tired. The last thing I see before passing out in his arms is Jean exchanging a worried look with Logan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani starts the morning off in confusion and disappointment when Scott acts more hostile towards her than usual and her telepathy lesson with the Professor ends badly. She finds Gambit and Max in the living room soon after. Through Gambit's desperate pleading, she finds herself playing babysitter with Max. The question is now, what does a grounded Dani do to entertain an almost 2 year old?

The first thing I notice, upon waking up in the morning, is I am still wearing the clothes I had on yesterday. The second thing I notice is I have no recollection of falling asleep or going to bed last night. “What the heck happened”, I think, “why am I still in my clothes?” I change my clothes, all while trying to remember falling asleep. I remember running away from dinner and Logan checking on me, but nothing else afterwards and start to worry. “Okay, don’t panic”, I remind myself as I leave my room, “memories come more easily when you relax.” I do some telepathic exercises as I head for the kitchen and note that the decorative table with the vase of flowers is missing. “That’s odd”, I mutter to myself, “I definitely remember it being there when I bolted from the smell last night”, and put my thumbnail in my mouth. “Maybe some breakfast might help”, I assure myself, “I didn’t eat much dinner last night so I’m definitely hungry”, and make my way into the kitchen.

I grab a box of Lucky Charms, a guilty pleasure of mine, and remind myself to eat some greek yogurt as a snack after my telepathy lesson to make up for the lack of protein in my breakfast. “Okay”, I think, going over everything I can remember from last night as I grab a bowl, “I ran away from the horrid smell that is baby food and Logan came to see if I was alright. I remember talking for him about ways to deal with my heightened sense of smell, but it all goes blank after. Did I fall asleep talking to him and he put me to bed?” I pour my cereal into the bowl, putting the box away afterwards, and open the fridge to grab the milk carton. Walking back to my bowl of cereal, I see Scott entering the kitchen and limp to the coffee pot in obvious pain. “Whoa, what happened to you”, I ask, a bit concerned at his injury, “did you get into a fight or have a bad danger room session?” “Don’t play dumb”, he snaps at me in anger, “you know EXACTLY what happened.” He disregards his coffee fix and proceeds to hobble quickly from the kitchen pissed. “What was that about”, I wonder, confused, when I feel something cold and wet hit my socks. “Crap”, I hiss, realizing I had inadvertently started pouring milk into my cereal bowl, but missed the bowl completely in distraction. I grab some of the dish towels from a drawer and start mopping up my mess, cursing myself for my foolishness.

“Making a mess already”, the Professor teases, causing me to jump in surprise, “you usually wait for your telekinesis lesson.” He has a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as he wheels himself closer to me, and I think with dread, “something’s wrong”, when I see his eyes have a mixture of worry and concern. Aloud, I reply, “Scott was just in here and said something weird to me. He was acting more hostile towards me than usual as well. I must have started pouring my milk onto the table without noticing until it started dripping on my socks”, I add sheepishly. I finish cleaning up my mess, placing the towels in the sink to bring to the laundry room after breakfast, and pour milk into my bowl before putting that away as well. “I don’t know what I did to garner that kind of anger”, I say, noting that the Professor is still looking at me, “I actually was trying to be nice and asked why he was limping, but he responded by telling me to not play dumb. Did I do something to make him more angry at me Professor?”

The Professor responds by probing my mind and I cry out, “why are you probing my mind? I’m telling the truth.” The probing stops immediately and he sighs, “what do you remember from last night after you left the dining room in a hurry?” “I ran from dinner because the baby food smelled like cat food and made me want to vomit”, I admit, blushing in embarrassment. “I ran to my room for fresh air to prevent that and Logan came to see if I was okay. He talked to me about my heightened sense of smell and how to handle new overwhelming smell, but after that it gets all fuzzy. I must have fallen asleep because I woke up this morning still wearing last night’s clothes.” “Anything else”, he asks, “thoughts, feelings, and/or other conversations?” I shake my head, getting suspicious that I DID do something, but somehow forgot. I send my own probe into his mind to look for answers, but he shuts me out in two seconds which makes me even more suspicious. “I was just wondering if, with your heightened sense of hearing, you heard Scott trip and fall on the stairs last night”, he states, “but it would appear I am mistaken.”

“He’s lying, but why”, I wonder, but don’t call him out on it. Instead I ask, “is that why he’s limping in pain”, observing the Professor hesitating for a second before nodding. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast”, he tells me, wheeling himself out of the kitchen. “Once you’re finished, I expect you to put those towels in the laundry and be in my office for your telepathy lesson. Today we’ll be analyzing your typical nightmare sequence to see how much is true memory versus fear induced imagination. Perhaps it will tell us how you wound up in the woods all alone.” “Okay”, I murmur, watching him leave, along with my appetite. I toss my half eaten bowl of cereal down the garbage disposal and rinse the bowl and spoon before placing them in the dishwasher. Grabbing the towels, I head for the laundry room all while thinking, “what did I do last night? I clearly must have done something horribly wrong if it’s got the Professor lying to my face.”

My telepathy lesson turns into a complete disaster and I leave it in disappointment at the huge backslide I had. During the revisitation of my nightmare, I remembered more details then before and it freaked me out. I wasn’t voluntarily lying still on the medical table like I originally thought, I was strapped to it. The reason I couldn’t escape was due to a psychic inhibitor placed onto the top of my head along with an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. “With the current levels she has displayed with her psychic powers this inhibitor will keep her from using them sir”, a scientist tells Stryker. “Good, we have all seen the destruction X-2 has caused in the past with her telekinesis when she’s put through excruciating pain”, Stryker states, coldly, “the last thing we need is for them to disrupt the procedure.” I get plunged into a small tank of water and begin to struggle against my bonds only to start screaming in panic when needles appear above me. My telepathy, responding to my panic, pushed both the Professor and myself from the memory before the pain could start as I screamed in reality. “Dani, DANI”, the Professor had to shout over my screaming since I raised a psionic shield and kicked him from my mind. He had to grab my head with both hands to snap me back to reality and calmly stated, “it’s alright Dani. You’re safe and not in danger.” “I’m sorry”, I gasp, hyperventilating slightly with tears springing to my eyes, “I’m sorry.” He let me go once he saw I was calming down and breathed a sigh of relief. “I believe this will conclude this week’s lesson”, he told me and it was very evident that he was worried. “I’m sorry, just give me a second and we can continue”, I insisted, trembling. “No”, he responded sternly, “that’s enough for today.” Feeling dismissed I had gotten up from my chair to head for the door only for him to sigh again. “I’m not angry with you”, he insisted, “just try to remember that I am trying to help you.” “I know”, I muttered, depressed, “that’s what makes me feel worse”, and left before he could respond.

I am so lost in my head at my failure, I completely walk past the kitchen and find myself in the living room. Max’s giggling followed by Gambit yelling, “put that down”, is what brings me back to reality. Gambit has papers and French books covering the coffee table and is in the process of grabbing a marker from his son, or at least trying to. I turn on my heel, hoping neither of them will see me, when I hear Gambit call my name. “What”, I groan, still wallowing at my failed lesson and he, after procuring the marker from his son, leaps up and asks in a frazzled voice, “can you please watch Max so I can go to the library to finish preparing for this week’s lesson plan? He’s making it very hard to concentrate on my work”, he adds, showing his level of desperation. “I can see that”, I mumble, “but I don’t think I’m old enough to babysit and would probably make a mess of it.” “Nonsense”, he retorts, “just play with him until I get back and you’ll do fine. If anything was to happen, you’ll know where to find me.” “I guess I can play”, I start to say and that’s all it took for Gambit. “Thanks little lady, you’re a lifesaver”, he states, grabbing his stuff off the table, giving a quick kiss to Max’s forehead, and starts to leave. “As a reward”, he adds, pointing to the side table by the couch, “feel free to finish off the container of Oreos”, and leaves me alone with his son.

“Fuck”, I mutter, miserably plopping down on the couch, and grab the Oreo’s package. “At least he left me a whole sleeve”, I think, less annoyed, and shove a cookie into my mouth. I stare at Max as I chew while he stares back and, using the coffee table as leverage, stands up to tottle over to me. “Up”, he says, lifting his arms up and I pick him up with telekinesis to place him on the couch. He giggles, “I’m flying”, and crawls over closer to me as I put my thumbnail in my mouth and try to think of something entertaining that didn’t involve Saturday morning cartoons. The Oreo packaging starts to make a crinkling sound and I look down to see Max trying to swipe a cookie. “Hey”, I yelp, holding the package above my head out of his reach, “these are mine.” “Fuck”, he replies, looking disappointed and I choke on the cookie I just placed in my mouth. “I’m going to be grounded for the rest of my life”, I think in panic. He notices my panic at the word and smiles before saying, “fuck”, a little louder. “You win”, I cry, handing him a cookie. I add in a pleading tone, “I’ll share as long as you NEVER say that word again.” “Okay”, he says, messily eating his cookie and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Crisis averted, I hope”, I think, looking around the room for something to play with.

“That might work”, I mutter, spotting a stuffed elephant on the floor, lifting it up towards me with telekinesis. Max’s reaction is instantaneous when he sees his stuff toy floating and he starts laughing. Clapping his hands in joy, he exclaims, “Effent fly like Dumbo.” I hand him another cookie, jamming another in my mouth, and focus on flying the toy around the room. I have it do loopty-loops and barrel rolls before having it duck and weave through the furniture in the room. Realizing it didn’t take much energy or effort to enter Max’s mind, I make a cute, cartoony voice in his head and make him believe his elephant is talking to him. This delights him to no end, especially when I land it on the table and have the “elephant” do a little song and dance. This goes on for quite a while until I start recognizing the signs I’m overdoing it with my powers. With my head starting to ache from the effort to keep the elephant afloat, I fly it into Max’s outstretched arms and release it once he has it. “Effent fly”, he giggles, throwing his toy off the couch and I almost pass out with the amount of energy I use to quickly stop the elephant from hitting the ground. I gasp from the effort, but succeed in flying the elephant to me this time and projecting, “elephant tired now”, into his mind before handing him the stuffed animal.  
My hand trembles, signaling I’m close to passing out, when I hear a laugh behind us and Max shouts gleefully, “daddy, effect magic”, turning to face Gambit. I struggle to my feet, resisting the urge to fall over, and he teases, “I guess I found myself a babysitter.” “Please”, I groan in exhaustion, “don’t”, and walk out of the living room. I lean heavily on the hallway’s wall, as I make my way to the foyer, in an attempt to make it to the stairs without my knees giving out. The stairs are another story. I try to walk up them, but end up having to crawl up the rest of them when a wave of exhaustion threatens to send me tumbling down them. With what little willpower I have left, I make it to my room and, once I close my door, collapse upon my bed. I’m so tired, I fall asleep in no time. An hour later, however, I get awoken by Jean telling me it’s time for lunch and I note that my little nap did next to nothing to alleviate my exhaustion. “Hopefully lunch will help”, I think, getting out of bed, “otherwise Mama is going to notice something’s up during my telekinesis lesson.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani gets in a bit of trouble with Jean when she finds out how tired Dani is. At dinner, Dani has an angry outburst that shocks everyone and she runs away in frustration.

Lunch helps a bit, but not enough, and I find I’m still weary from entertaining Max. I attempt to push through my exhaustion and proceed with my telekinesis lesson with Jean in the Danger Room, but she soon notices something is up when I almost fall over doing a simple warm up exercise. She stops the training program with her tablet and makes a chair appear next to me, ordering, “sit down before you fall down.” “I’m fine”, I protest, “I’m just a little tired from my nap and can still continue.” She can tell I’m lying through my teeth and snaps, “you are NOT fine Dani, now sit before I make you sit.” I sit down without another word, staring at the floor as shame fills me for making her snap. She rarely snaps at me, since Scott does it enough for the both of them and then some, and I revert back to my timid self at the scolding. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good”, I whimper automatically, cringing at the expectation of a beating.

She sees the reversion and sighs, kneeling in front of my chair. “I’m not going to hurt you sweetheart”, she assures me, putting a hand under my chin, “I shouldn’t have snapped, but I worry when you lie to me. You haven’t had this much difficulty during warm ups for a while now and I don’t want you to pass out.” “I know”, I respond, quietly, struggling to snap myself out of my regressed state, “I thought it was something I could push through without you noticing, but I was wrong. I’m sorry for making you worry Mama.” Tears start to form in my eyes, blurring my vision as I lift my head to look at her. “Then, please, tell me the truth Dani”, she asks, “why are you this exhausted all of a sudden? Did you forget to eat breakfast before your lesson with the Professor or did you forget to eat your snack afterwards?” I avoid her eyes, tears spilling down my face as I think back to the bizarre behavior of the Professor and Scott and how it threw off my appetite. “Dani, don’t try to avoid the question”, Jean prods, gently, “what happened?” “I made myself a bowl of Lucky Charms for breakfast, but barely ate half of it before throwing it away”, I admit, looking back her in tears, “then after my disaster of a telepathy lesson, I lost track of my thoughts and wound up in the living room where Gambit bribed me with Oreos to watch Max for him.” “That’s not the whole truth is it”, she asks, probing my mind gently, and I sigh before spilling the rest. “I used telekinesis and telepathy to entertain Max”, I mutter in embarrassment, projecting what I did into her mind. “As you can see, I couldn’t think of anything to do that didn’t involve the tv so I made Max believe his stuffed elephant was magic.”

I look away from Jean again, imagining her disappointment in me for using my powers, as Scott would say, frivolously. “Dani, look at me”, she states and I look to see that, while there is some disappointment in her expression, it is nearly covered by pride. “I am disappointed by your poor eating habits this morning”, she informs me, “but I want you to know how proud I am for your ingenuity. You came up with an adorable way to play with Max that encourages his imagination and, unknowingly, gave yourself a telekinesis lesson at the same time.” She adds with a sly smile, “I’ll let you off the hook today and cancel your lesson but”, she taps my nose teasingly, “don’t make a habit of it. These lessons are designed to not only learn control, but to also raise your mental stamina as well as teaching you how much energy it should, eventually, take to do each task.” “Yes Mama”, I say, smiling as I wipe the remains of the tears from my eyes. “Is something else bothering you sweetie”, she asks, concerned, when I start to frown again. “Did I do something bad last night that I can’t remember Mama”, I ask, hoping she’ll tell me the truth, “I tried to ask the Professor this morning, but he lied to me and Scott acts like I did something to him.”

She hesitates a bit before answering my question. “Logan and Scott got into another argument last night concerning you after you fell asleep”, she answers, “it escalated into a fight and Scott fell down the stairs. Since you didn’t wake up, you shouldn’t know what happened.” “Then why did Scott insinuate it was all my fault”, I demand, growing suspicious of the explanation, “and why did the Professor probe my mind when I told him I didn’t remember much of what happened after dinner.” I start growing angry and, in an insistent tone, state, “there’s more to the story than what you or the Professor are telling me.” “It doesn’t matter”, she insists, “what matters right this minute is that you are still tired. I want you to head up to your room and take another nap. If you’re lucky, you can get a couple more hours before dinner, now scoot.” The finality of her tone ends my sudden flash of anger and I sigh. “Fine”, I huff, standing up from the chair and proceed to head out of the Danger Room. “Did I attack Scott and Mama and the Professor are trying to cover it up”, I wonder as I make my way to my room, “but why? Why am I not allowed to know the truth and why are people I trust lying to me?”

I feel much better after my second nap and join everyone for dinner. Jean, to make up for my poor eating habits today, gives me an extra serving of turkey to keep my protein levels up. Gambit joins the table shortly after with Max, placing him into his new high chair by me, and seating himself across from me. “Play again soon Dai”, Max asks and Jean tells Scott how proud she is that I watched Max for Gambit. “Who leaves their toddler in the hands of a nine year old”, Scott grumbles, glaring at Gambit who stands up to grab the bowl of Spaghetti-Os from Storm and places them in front of Max. “Well I think she did a fine job Scott”, he says with a smile, ignoring the glare, “however I did get informed by your mother that cookies are not an acceptable bribe for you”, he states sheepishly, “so what is the appropriate bribe for the little lady?” “Eggs”, Logan states with a grin at me, “she loves eggs but isn’t allowed to make them herself without adult supervision.” “Then I guess I’m making you eggs next time”, Gambit says with a chuckle. I choke a bit on my turkey, “what do you mean next time”, I ask him in horror. I look pleadingly at Jean with my “why me” face. “Don’t worry”, she tries to assure me, “it won’t become a regular occurrence and, as Max has already shown, he wants to play again with you.”

“Yeah, Max wouldn’t stop talking about how his favorite toy became magic when you were around”, Gambit explains. “When he goes on and on about someone it means he likes you.” I feel cranky at that explanation, which only intensifies when I get a spoonful of Spaghetti-Os launched at my face. Max starts laughing and clapping as I wipe my face, but it doesn’t bother me until I realize some of the adults are also laughing. A surge of anger boils through my blood and I slam the napkin I used to clean my face on the table, shocking everyone. “Do that again”, I snarl at Max, “and your elephant will NEVER fly again, except into the fireplace.” He bursts into tears as everyone stares at me in shock. “What”, I snap at them as Gambit picks up his sobbing son and leaves the dining room to calm him down. The Professor breaks the silence by answering calmly, though concern laces his voice, “that was an extremely cruel thing to say Dani. Max doesn’t know any better, but you do.” “Oh yeah? Well now he knows never to do it again”, I yell with pure venom in my tone. Abruptly, I stand up, “and why should you even care”, I spit furiously, “you’ve done nothing but lie to me today.” His expression changes to shock, which is mirrored by many of the other adults save for Logan who looks worried. I have never acted this way towards the Professor before and Storm scolds, “Dani, what has gotten into you?” I scream in frustration, unable to understand why I’m suddenly so angry, and run out of the dining room, almost knocking Gambit and Max over in the process.

“What did I miss”, Gambit asks while Jean yells, “Dani, you get back here right now.” I ignore her, racing for the front door in the foyer and practically rip it off its hinges in my fury. Once outside, I dead sprint for the woods, easily outdistancing Jean, who is trying to chase me, by at least a hundred yards. It’s not terribly dark out, but in the woods is dark enough for me to lose her when I enter the forest. I barely break my stride, despite the increased darkness, able to see where I’m going with the light of the almost set sun. Nimbly, I move through the woods until I come upon a small clearing partially lit in the remaining light of the sun. I stop in the clearing, not even out of breath considering I was sprinting and feel the pent up rage inside come to a head. The running helped to break some of it, but not enough and I crave another outlet to release my anger and frustration. I stomp upto a large tree on the edge of the clearing, hauling back with my arm before punching the bark with all my might. A resounding crack sounds at the impact and I can see that my fist has left a decent sized dent in the trunk, reminding me that my strikes are more powerful with the added weight of my adamantium bones behind them. I let out a howl of rage, realizing that hitting something felt good, and let loose a fury of punches on the tree, hearing and seeing with satisfaction as bark gets sent flying.

I go to punch the tree again with my right hand when someone grabs my arm and yells, “kid, that’s enough.” “Wrong move”, I hiss, twisting expertly to my left to ram my elbow into my captor’s gut. They drop my arm with a surprised grunt of pain and I bend forward to extend my left leg higher in an effort to back kick my opponent’s head. Due to my short stature, compared to their obvious height advantage, my foot only reaches high enough to connect with their chest. They back away after that blow and I turn to face the person trying to stop me. I’m slightly surprised to see it’s Logan, who huffs sarcastically, “you done or are you still looking for a fight?” I yell in anger, charging at him to deliver another punch, but he deflects my blow easily and backs up to prevent my kick from connecting. I keep trying to hit him, despite my failure to land anything, and, in a moment of aggravation, I perform a long combination of strikes in hopes that I could land something. I don’t, but I do start observing his pattern of blocks that prevent me from hitting him and try a new tactic. I feint a blow to his left side with my left fist and throw a kick into his crotch instead. “Low blow”, he growls in obvious pain, but I get distracted by a twig snapping.

“Shit”, he adds, hearing it too, and we are both temporarily blinded by a flashlight. Jean, who is holding the flashlight, gasps when I growl at her and try to make my way towards her. A hard blow gets dealt to the back of my skull and I turn to glare at Logan in anger. “Eyes on me Wildcat”, he yells, entering a fighting stance, “I’m your opponent.” “Logan, what are you doing”, Jean asks, clearly confused and he states, “just stay out of this Jean, I’ve got this handled.” I leap at him with a primal yell, trying to hit him with a jumping punch and miss him. He sweeps his leg, knocking me off my feet as I land and I fall to the ground with a thud. I scramble back to a standing position, a smile crossing my face as I crack my neck. With him fighting back, I find it a lot harder to land anything on Logan as we exchange blows back and forth. I swing wildly with my right fist and receive a jab to my face. The scent of my blood fills my nose from the strike and, before I can react to retaliate, he knees me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. “Logan”, Jean warns, “try not to hurt her”, distracting him a second. I use the minor distraction to perform my own leg sweep and knock him to the ground. I straddle his chest and start wailing on his head with a flurry of punches. He flips me off him and locks me into some kind of hold that I struggle to break free from. Breathing hard from my efforts, I start to struggle less as I grow tired and soon give up trying to break loose. “Feeling better there”, he asks, calmly still holding me in case it’s a ploy and I nod with a pout. “Good”, he remarks, releasing me, “now stop pouting.” He stands up and reaches his hand down to help me to my own feet, “you have quite the talent for fighting it would seem kiddo”, he comments, “just never, EVER go for a crotch shot on me again, got it?” I nod my head and he herds me towards Jean, who is clearly very anxious.

She starts checking me over for serious injuries and states, “you are so lucky she is like you Logan”, in her mama bear tone, “otherwise she’d be black and blue with several broken bones and most likely a concussion.” He snorts in response. “If I hadn’t started fighting back I’m pretty sure you would have been on the receiving end of those strikes”, he retorts, taking out a cigar and lighting it. I sneeze once from the smoke, clearing some of the drying blood from my nose and he chuckles at me. He kneels down before me, so we are relatively eye to eye, and takes the cigar out of his mouth. “I believe there are several people you owe apologies to half pint.” I’m positive I’m blushing from embarrassment when I mumble, “yes Logan, I’m sorry.” He puts the cigar back into his mouth with another chuckle as he stands back up. “Speak up when you apologize to the others Wildcat”, he says in his teasing tone and ruffles my hair, “they don’t have heightened hearing like me.” I give him a half smile and say louder, “I’m sorry Mama for how I acted. I just got so angry all of a sudden and didn’t know what to do with it.” “We’ll discuss that later”, she says, giving me a hug, “I’m just glad you’ve calmed down now.” “We should probably head back inside before Scott sends out a rescue party”, Logan states, “we don’t want him riling up the Wildcat after I worked hard to calm her down”, turning to head back to the Institute. “Okay, you are SERIOUSLY going to explain that little nickname you’ve given her”, Jean informs him, “and no trying to get out of it.” He laughs, “only if it means I’m allowed to still call her that, because she actually likes it.” “Deal, but put out that cigar. You know I don’t like you smoking around her”, she answers and I laugh at how fast he puts it out to please her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani gets woken up early to the sounds of Scott shouting and begrudgingly gives up trying to sleep. She talks with Logan in the kitchen and, soon after, Jean joins them. After a quick discussion with Logan, Dani learns the reason behind Scott's yelling and can't wait to start her new lessons.

I wake up the next day to the sound of Scott yelling through the wall. “Ugh, it’s Sunday”, I groan to myself, rolling over to look at my alarm clock. “Come on, it’s only 9am”, I think miserably when Scott shouts, “why are we even having this discussion Jean? Dani still has a week left in her suspension for fighting, and you know full well I think Logan is already a bad influence on her, so why did you even believe I would go along with this crazy idea? If she takes private lessons from Logan, he’ll just encourage her that violence is the answer to anger. Do you WANT Dani to get expelled from school?” “This argument won’t be over anytime soon”, I mutter with regret, “whenever Logan and I are the reason for their fights, Scott refuses to let it go.” I get out of bed with a groan, noting that my muscles are sore and stiff from last night’s activities, but ignore the feeling. I get dressed for the day, yawning and cursing Scott for his inability to remember I have heightened hearing, and sleepily make my way down to the kitchen.

Logan looks at the clock in surprise when he sees me enter, stating, “I thought Jean said you hate mornings with a passion and, since Sunday is your one day a week to sleep in, it would take a miracle to see you up before 11am.” I don’t respond, due to still being mentally half asleep, and sit climb up onto one of the kitchen island chairs with another groan. “Hey”, Logan says, waving his hand in front of my face to get my attention, “are you okay half pint? Did you have another nightmare and that’s why you’re up early?” “Can I kill Scott”, I ask tiredly, “because he’s the reason I’m up at this stupid hour. His shouting woke me up” He gives me a sympathetic look and pats my head. “Even though that wasn’t very nice of him to do”, he states, pulling up a chair to sit next to me, “I’m positive Jean would get angry if you were to commit murder, so I highly recommend not doing that.” I let out another yawn, stretching a bit and wince from the throb my muscles give in response, “well you just made his argument completely invalid”, I remark, “he thinks you’re going to encourage me to start fights with my bullies to stop them.” “Great”, Logan mutters, “so it’s another one of his ‘Logan is a bad influence on you’ fights. Did you happen to hear how your mother was responding to the broken record?” “She was much calmer”, I admit, shrugging my shoulders with more wincing, “so I couldn’t hear her reply and came down here instead.”

Logan notices and starts smiling. “I’m guessing someone is a little stiff from her impromptu fight last night”, he teases and I glare at him crankily. “Yes”, I huff, “but I can’t figure out why. Shouldn’t my healing factor prevent this from happening?” He chuckles, “some of the pain you feel could be psychosomatic, meaning”, he adds when I give him a confused look, “your mind knows you were dealt painful blows last night and thinks you should be in some form of pain even though the damage has already been healed. The most likely reason, however, is probably you straining what little muscle you possess in an effort to try to hit me. Muscles hurt when you overwork them and since there’s no actual damage causing the pain, you still feel it. Having a healing factor doesn’t make you impervious to pain kiddo”, he continues to explain, “I feel pain every time I extend my claws but have gotten used to it. If you continue working your muscles properly, the pain will lessen eventually or you’ll get used to it as well.” “That makes sense”, I reply, “since Mama and the Professor only focus on my mental powers in my lessons, I’m always guessing on whether or not something is normal when it comes to my physical mutations.” “Well, if you ever have questions”, he says, “I’m willing to listen and answer any I can.” I go to respond, but my stomach chooses that moment to let out a loud growl. I turn red as Logan laughs, definitely hearing the noise as well. He gets up out of the chair to open the fridge and says, “you know, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet myself so how about we make something together. What sounds good to you?” “Eggs”, I answer immediately, “I absolutely love eggs, but I don’t know how to make them since I’m apparently still too young to use the stove.”

“How old are you again”, he asks, a thoughtful look crossing his face and I snort in response. “No memory remember”, I answer sarcastically, “so how am I supposed to know? They hypothesised nine when they found me two years ago, but that doesn’t appear to be the case since I still look relatively the same.” “That bastard Stryker should never have bound adamantium to your skeleton”, he states, a bit angry, “I don’t know what could possibly possess him to do it.” “So you don’t know if my reverse aging is normal”, I ask, disappointed. “Unfortunately I have no memory of how old I was when I activated my own healing factor or whether or not it slowed my aging in adolescence, so you could be twenty for all I know.” “Well, Mama thinks I’m still a child since I’m still growing, albeit slowly, but can’t explain how,” I groan, hopping off my seat, “either that or I’m not old enough to hear her theories.” “Well regardless of how old the others treat you”, Logan retorts, grabbing some pans from the cupboard, “I believe you’re old enough to learn how to make scrambled eggs at least.” He looks at me, “so why don’t you go find a stool, while I get the ingredients out, and you can help me make breakfast half pint.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize how easy it was to make scrambled eggs”, I comment before plowing into my portion of the scrambled eggs and sausage we made. With my mouth slightly full, I ask, “where’d you learn to cook anyways?” “Be careful speaking with your mouth full, I don’t want you to choke”, Logan says before answering my question. “I used to spend most of my time on the road, before I came here, and slept in a trailer I hauled on the back of my truck. On days I didn’t stop at a bar or diner, I made my own meals.” I think about that as I chew and, once I swallow what’s in my mouth, hesitantly ask, “do you miss being on the road?” “Sometimes”, he admits, then gives me a knowing smile, “however, if I recall correctly, the Professor mentioned a certain little girl wished for me to stay.” My jaw drops and I look down as I feel myself turn red. “You stayed because I asked”, I whisper, slightly embarrassed. “I’m saying you’re ONE of the reasons kiddo”, he replies, taking a bite of his eggs. “Is the other reason because you love Mama”, I ask with curiosity and Logan chokes for a moment. “Did Scott tell you that”, he accuses and I start to smile. “Technically you just confirmed it”, I remark, “also I see how you look at her, like she means the world to you, especially when she thanked you for keeping me safe during Stryker’s invasion.” “Eat your breakfast”, is all he responds, trying to change the subject, “before it gets cold.” “If it helps, she likes that you are genuinely nice to me, not to win brownie points like Scott does”, I say and add quietly, “and it makes me wish you were my dad.” I know he heard my last comment, because there’s a ghost of a smile that appears on his face, but he doesn’t say anything in reply.

Once we both have finished eating, I help Logan clean the dishes since rule number one of the Institute’s kitchen states: if it can’t go into the dishwasher, you use it you wash it. I just handed him the last pot I dried to put away when Jean walks in and, in surprise, asks, “what miracle got you out of bed before 11am on a Sunday”, when she sees me. “Two words”, Logan states, covering my mouth so I didn’t say anything snippy, “Scott yelling”, and drops his hand when she comes over to me. “I’m sorry sweetheart”, she tells me with guilt, “I wasn’t expecting him to get that angry.” “I know”, I mumble, shifting awkwardly on my feet, “I heard. Do you think he’ll ever remember I can hear him clearly through the wall when he starts to yell?” She sighs, “I’ll remind him again but for now, can you wait in the hall while I discuss something with Logan? I’ll make you eggs for breakfast once we’re done.” “But I already ate Mama”, I reply and excitedly add, “Logan taught me how to make scrambled eggs.”

She gives Logan a “really” look, which makes him blush slightly, and informs me, “while that was very nice of him, you are NOT allowed to use the stove without an adult present until I say so, you understand?” “I understand”, I moan, “but if this discussion is about Scott not wanting me to hang out with Logan anymore, you can tell him to forget it.” “No it’s not”, she answers with an eye roll, “and I made it very clear his feelings are in no way an acceptable reason to bar you from being friends, now scoot.” “Why can’t I stay”, I whine and she answers in my mind, “because I’m going to ask Logan something that pertains to you and I don’t want you to try to influence the answer.” I pout, but answer aloud, “okay Mama”, and head for the door. “And so you’re aware, I will not hesitate to run the garbage disposal if you try to eavesdrop”, she states loudly and I turn back in a huff. “Fine”, I groan, seeing them both smile at me for knowing what I planned to do, and close the door behind me when I leave the kitchen.

Sitting in the hall, I try to come up with ideas for what Jean wanted to talk to Logan about that would make Scott disapprove, but can’t really think of anything. As I ponder more, I see Scott out of the corner of my eye and turn my head to watch him limp down the hall. “Morning Scott”, I try to say politely even though I’m still peeved he woke me up and he looks at his watch in shock. “Wow, I never thought I would see the day where you’re voluntarily up before 11”, he comments snidely. My crankiness wins out after that and I scowl at him before snapping snidely, “only because SOMEONE deemed it necessary to start yelling at 9am, so I wouldn't call that voluntary.” He frowns and asks sheepishly, “so you heard our argument then?” “No kidding”, I deadpan, adding with attitude, “you would think after two years of constant reminders from, not only me, but from Mama too that I can hear you clearly through the wall when you decide to have a one sided shouting match.” “I’m sorry Dani”, he says in guilt, “am I to guess that the reason you’re out here instead of the kitchen is because Jean’s discussing her crazy idea with him?”

“Okay, what’s this ‘crazy’ idea”, I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me, “it’s got to be something awesome if it’s got you in a tizzy.” “I’m not telling you because I’m still hoping Logan has the sense to say no”, Scott replies, “and stay out of my head young lady”, he adds when I go to try and subtly probe it. I huff in annoyance and then nonchalantly say, “Logan taught me how to make scrambled eggs for breakfast”, hoping it will catch him off guard. It had the opposite effect, because he flips out and shouts, “what kind of idiot teaches a nine year old how to use the stove?” The kitchen door opens at that moment and Jean pokes her head out. “Don’t worry Scott, Dani has already agreed to only use it when an adult is present”, she states. She adds to me, “you are free to come back in if you’d like”, and I quickly get to my feet. Scott, still not happy, follows me into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath.

“I have talked to Logan”, Jean begins, locking eyes with Scott, “and he’s agreed to give you private sparring lessons and teach you the proper way to fight.” My face lights up like Christmas came early. “Really”, I ask excitedly and she nods. “No wonder Scott hates the idea”, I think and she gives me a stern look, no doubt hearing that thought. “This will only happen if you promise to NEVER use this knowledge on others unless it’s an absolute last resort”, she informs me. “Yes Mama” I answer quickly, still bouncing up and down in excitement. She continues, “he’s agreed to train you three days a week, Saturday and Sunday afternoons after lunch and Wednesday nights after dinner.” “Does that sound like a good starting plan kiddo”, Logan adds with a grin. “YES”, I shout, rushing to give him a hug, “can we start today?” “Well that’s all up to your mom”, he answers, glancing at her for permission. “Please”, I beg with pleading eyes and she sighs, “alright fine, but start slow. I don’t want you overdoing it.” “Don’t worry about that”, Logan assures her, “she’s built like a twig and I’ll have to teach her the basics. We’ll be mostly doing drills, unless she picks it up fast, but I wouldn’t go too hard on her until she starts gaining some muscle. She admitted before breakfast that she felt a little stiff this morning.” Jean looks relieved to hear Logan say that, but Scott still butts in and warns him, “just because I begrudgingly agreed to this does NOT mean I like it OR you.” He points at me, “and you need to learn the difference between when it’s okay to throw a punch or if the best option is to walk away”, he snaps and limps out of the kitchen. “Mama”, I ask, hesitantly, looking at her and Logan, “was I the one who pushed Scott down the stairs?” They both exchange a worried look, but don’t answer my question and I take their silence as a yes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani has her first fighting/sparring lesson with Logan.
> 
> I should note that I do MMA and am a blue belt so I do go pretty in depth on the descriptions for the lesson. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

After finishing lunch, Jean tells me that Logan is waiting for me by the basketball court for my first lesson. I head outside, in nervous anticipation, and quickly spot him leaning against one of the basketball hoops, smoking a cigar while he waits. When he sees me approaching, he puts out his cigar and tucks it into his jacket. He scoops something off the ground and says, “here, put these on”, before tossing me a small pair of boxing gloves. He grabs another, much larger pair, off the ground as I catch mine and puts them on his hands. I look at my gloves in confusion, “why”, I ask, “I was punching trees and you just fine without them last night.” He gives me his “don’t argue with me” look and explains, “these are for training half pint so we don’t hurt each other.” I start to protest and he quickly adds, “before you try to argue we can heal from our injuries, please remember I promised your mother we’d start slow.” I close my mouth and put on the gloves with no more fuss.

Logan helps me into a proper fighting stance and nonchalantly states, “now Jean gave me a heads up that you have the ability to create invisible barriers with your telekinesis unconsciously and to not be surprised if they appear randomly while I teach you.” I turn red in embarrassment and whisper worriedly, “will that be a problem?” “It shouldn’t be”, he remarks, walking around me in a small circle to adjust my stance, “I think she told me in case I hit a wall.” He proceeds to throw a light punch at me, but hits a force field instead. “Literally”, he adds with a grin, “honestly that’s actually something that can become useful in a fight because your opponent won’t expect it and you’ll be protected from cheap shots. However. You still need to practice fighting without it in case you ever run into a situation where you can’t use your psychic abilities.” “Okay”, I reply in understanding, lowering the barrier and focusing on keeping it down.

“Now that we’ve got that settled”, he says, “it’s now time to begin your lesson. You demonstrated you have some fighting knowledge, no doubt from tv and movies, but lack the necessary skill, control, and technique to be successful against a trained fighter. Do you remember what happened when I started fighting you back kiddo”, he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I got my ass beat”, I answer, sheepishly, “and you punched me in the nose hard enough to make it bleed for a moment.” “That’s because you gave me the opening to jab your face. When you swing wildly, you leave yourself open to strikes to the head. This brings us to the first part of our lesson, always keep your guard up.” He demonstrates by raising his gloves to his face to create a barrier that protects it while also allowing him the ability to still see his opponent. I copy his current stance and, after some minor tweaking, I was in a guarded fighting stance.

“Do you know the names of the four basic punches half pint”, he asks in curiosity and I answer, “I’m guessing one is called a jab, since you mentioned that when you explained why you hit me in the face, and in my Pokemon games, some fighting Pokemon can learn an attack called Sky Uppercut. So am I safe in assuming another is called an uppercut?” “Yes, one strike is called a jab and it’s where you hit your opponent with your weaker, less dominant hand. In your stance, that will be your left hand. The next one is the cross, which uses your stronger hand which is your right hand. The most common combo in fighting is the jab cross but, since it’s so common, it’s also the most easily blocked combo since your opponent will expect it. That’s where the third strike comes in, the hook. The hook is a punch that utilizes your core muscles to gain power which enables it to be strong even though it travels the shortest distance to your target. If you manage to distract your opponent, or get them to ease up on their guard somewhere, you can use the hook to deal a quick, powerful strike. The last strike is, as you mentioned, the uppercut, but since you’re so short compared to me it wouldn’t be as useful a strike for you.” “Why not”, I ask, pouting and wondering why my small stature made me unable to use a punch. “The uppercut is typically aimed at the chin kiddo. Since I’m almost two feet taller than you, you would have to jump to reach mine and that would leave you open to any number of strikes”, Logan replies apologetically. “I’ll still teach you how to do the strike properly, however, but unless your opponent is no taller than 5’, it’s a hard punch to land.”

I scowl, suddenly hating my stunted growth even more at that knowledge and Logan notices. “Being short does have it’s advantages in a fight Dani, just as much as being tall”, he tries to assure me. “How”, I retort, thinking he’s just trying to make me feel better. “The closer you can get to an opponent, the harder it is for them to deal their own powerful strikes and deal them accurately. If you maintain a close distance, your strikes will be more effective than your opponent’s, since they’ll be stuck only using short range strikes”, he explains. “Now, before I bore you to falling asleep with my pesky explanations”, he teases, and I roll my eyes in humor, “let’s start applying the knowledge physically.” He demonstrates how to do all four strikes, using a tree as a punching bag, and has me do drills.

After yet another set of 25 jab crosses, my guard slips below my chin as my arms start to feel like overcooked spaghetti. Logan bops me lightly in the head with his gloves upon seeing this and announces, “keep your guard up Dani. Even if you’re getting tired, all it takes is a split second for a headhunter to try and clobber you.” “Headhunter”, I ask, tiredly raising my gloves back to my nose though my arms are screaming. “People whose only talent is to outlast their opponent long enough to knock them out with a powerful strike to the head.” “Oh come on”, I gripe, “with how short I am, my head is the only viable target for people. That is so unfair.” “Which is why I am stressing on you now the importance of keeping your guard up at all times”, he responds, jabbing at my face. I react and raise my gloves up in front of my face to keep the strike from hitting me. “At least you’re a fast learner”, he states with pride, “but we should go over how to block better. You looked like a turtle for a moment there”, he teases and blocks my attempt to hit him in retaliation. He gets down on his knees, to make himself more on my height level, and asks me to throw a jab at him. I throw one and he blocks it easily. “Watch at the different ways I can block one strike half pint”, he tells me, “and once you have this down to where it’s almost reflex, I’ll teach you how to counter.” He throws his own light jabs at me to block, and I practice the different blocks for the jab. After I have that down, he does the same thing for the other three strikes and soon is throwing all four strikes at me to see if I’ll anticipate the right block to use.

“Alright”, he says, getting back to his feet, “now that you have the basics down, let’s try to apply it to light sparring.” He throws some easy combinations at me and, even though my arm muscles are screaming for a reprieve, I raise my guard to block the strikes. We exchange blows back and forth when I see his guard drop slightly and I rush in to deal a cross to his stomach with my guard completely down. I fall to the ground with a groan, the scent of my blood filling my nose as it bleeds slightly. He takes his gloves off to help me to my feet and checks my nose to see how much damage I was dealt. “Hopefully you learned something important from that last strike”, he states, touching my nose gingerly. I grimace from the minor throbbing pain and reply, “don’t drop your guard and definitely don’t run into your opponent’s fist.” “Some lessons get learned the hard way”, he comments, “but good news is your nose has stopped bleeding and healed already.” I wipe the blood off my face with my arm, asking, “okay, so can we go again?” “Unfortunately this is where I’m going to have to end today’s lesson”, he answers regretfully. “Already”, I whine and he chuckles. “We’ve already been out here for more than an hour, granted I did talk the first chunk of the lesson, but I did promise Jean I would start you slow.” “Okay”, I respond with a pout, taking off the gloves and try to hand them to him.

“Keep ‘em kid, I bought them for you”, he says with a smile, ruffling my hair. “Thank you Logan”, I reply, giving him a hug, when my stomach lets out a loud grumble. He starts to chuckle, as I blush, and states, “let’s get you a snack. You worked very hard for your first lesson Dani. Then, I suggest you take a warm bath or a shower to help with the inevitable muscle soreness.” I nod in agreement, my muscles choosing that moment to remind me how much I worked them, and follow him back inside. “What happened”, Jean asks, sighing at the sight of the blood I missed wiping off my face when we enter the foyer. “I learned the hard way to never drop your guard and to not run into your opponent’s fist”, I answer, sheepishly. “I already checked it out Jean”, Logan adds when she goes to examine my nose, “the bleeding stopped quickly and she shows no signs of having a concussion.” “Alright”, she says in relief, giving me a sly smile when my stomach makes it’s demands for food well known. “What would you recommend as a snack after a hard workout for my little twig Logan”, she asks, tapping my nose teasingly. “Honestly, I’d say a protein bar and to make sure she drinks fluids with electrolytes, he answers, “and after she’s eaten, have her relax her muscles in warm water to alleviate the soreness. If you don’t have any protein bars, I guess a PBJ should do the trick.” “Okay”, she replies before addressing me, “why don’t you at least wash the rest of the blood off of your face while I make you that sandwich. Tomorrow I’ll bring you with me to the store so we can find some protein bars you might like.” I smile broadly, “thank you Mama”, I exclaim, “thank you again for my first lesson Logan, I can’t wait for Wednesday.” I run off up the stairs to my room as Logan shouts, “glad you had fun kiddo.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani carries out her suspension and worries a bit of what her classmates will tease her on now. A nice surprise happens near the end of the school year and Dani gets another, though temporary, ally to help her pass the first grade.

The second week of my suspension flies by quicker than the first, most likely due to my dread at having to return to school. The adults, during their weekly Monday staff meetings, learn I accidentally taught Max the f-bomb. Since I was working on some extra credit assignments, Gambit didn’t have me watch Max during the meeting and just held him in his arms. Apparently, there was a small plate of cookies on the Professor’s desk and Max wanted one, but got told repeatedly no. In a last ditch effort to get the cookie, he dropped the bomb in disappointment. Storm, Jean, and the Professor were mortified, Miss Rogue was indifferent, Scott was beyond pissed, and both Gambit and Logan thought it was hilarious. “Don’t worry”, Gambit assures me, after I get seeked out by the adults after the meeting, “he already knows the s-word from me because I yelled it when I dropped my papers. This stuff happens and I can tell you deeply regret it.” Scott gives me a lecture about appropriate language around small children and how my developing potty mouth is unacceptable, but keeps my punishment, thankfully, to just that.

My second sparring lesson with Logan on Wednesday night was just as fun as the first and he gives me combos to drill and practice. I learn how to effectively string my strikes together to work around my opponent’s guard and even get a few strikes to land during sparring. “Nice strikes half pint”, he says with pride, “keep up the good work and you’ll have boxing down in no time.” “Does that mean we can start learning kicks”, I ask eagerly. “One step at a time”, he teases, “but maybe. I do have to start thinking up my own lesson plans now that the Professor has made me a teacher here.” “Art”, I ask with a sly grin, remembering his fib to Bobby’s parents and he laughs. “No, I am now the close combat instructor for the students as a physical education option since Jean recommended me.” I look at him in horror, “does that mean I won’t have private lessons anymore once I transfer here?” He takes off his glove and musses my hair, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Hell, by the time you transfer, you’ll be ahead of your future classmates and I may have to convince your mother to allow you to be in the future advanced classes”, he assures me. “Cool”, I say, with a huge grin. “But for now”, he adds, kneeling down, “let’s work on your blocks. If we have time afterwards we can do some light sparring.” He throws strikes at me to block and, later that night, I realize I haven’t felt as moody or short tempered since my first lesson on Sunday. “Guess I just needed a healthy outlet for my frustrations instead of bottling them up”, I think, getting ready for bed, “perhaps that’s why Mama was adamant I start these lessons.”

Max forgives me after a couple of days and starts to pester me constantly in the following afternoons to play with him. I still feel terribly guilty for snarling at him at dinner and agree without fuss. “Dai, play effent”, Max asks, throwing his stuffed toy at me to float. Both Jean and Gambit had to explain that Max calls me Dai, not to be mean, but because he’s still learning how to say certain consonants. “If it makes you feel better, he calls me Gee”, she tells me and I nod in understanding. It made sense since the poor kid couldn’t say the word “elephant”, even though it was his favorite toy, but felt bad at what he started calling Logan. He overheard me call Logan Wolverine and has now started calling him “Woofo” every time he sees Logan. I think Scott has found a way to encourage Max to continue with the name, since he smirks at Logan’s annoyance at the nickname, and no amount of begging will get him to stop. “Will you stop calling Logan Woofo”, I ask, catching his elephant. Max giggles, “I wike Woofo”, and I sigh. “At least I’m trying”, I think, “eventually he’ll stop… I hope.”

Sunday night, at dinner, I find I don’t feel particularly hungry and spend most of the meal playing with my spaghetti and meatballs. Everyone, save for Max, has noticed my lack of appetite but all look like they’re trying to think of a way to bring it up gently. “Okay, what’s on your mind kiddo”, Logan asks bluntly, breaking the silence, “you’re not eating.” “Yes I am”, I quickly respond, forcefully putting a small forkful of spaghetti in my mouth. Gambit, who has taken to sitting across from me at dinner, gives me his “really” look before stating, “you can’t fool us little lady.” He points to Max, who has more of his dinner on his face than in his stomach, and adds, “the only difference between you and Max at this moment is you’re not wearing your dinner.” Max, of course, chooses that exact moment to pick up his small bowl of spaghetti and place it on his head like it’s a hat. Gambit groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as I try very hard not to laugh at how happy Max is with his new ‘hat’.

Jean, reading my worry, says, “something is bothering you sweetheart. Can you tell us what has stressed you all of a sudden?” The concern lacing her voice breaks me and I softly ask, “do I have to go back?” “If you are talking about school”, Scott interjects, “then the answer is yes young lady.” I stare at my plate, dread overtaking me at the finality of Scott’s statement. “You’re afraid the other students will tease you more now”, the Professor says, “or worse, that they’ll be afraid of you and see you as a monster.” I sink in my chair, as my stomach feels like it’s doing a flip-flop, and don’t look him in the eyes. Through his intuitiveness and telepathy, he managed to put my feelings into words and it makes me feel worse. Tears form in my eyes as some of the adults start to look at me with pity and Jean has me sit up in my chair so she can give me a hug. “Is that why you don’t want to go back”, she asks with a touch of sadness in her voice and I nod, my tears escaping to fall onto her shoulder.

“Everyone already thought I was a stupid freak because I appear nine but am in the first grade”, I sob, “now they are going to think I’m a neanderthal since I smashed the biggest kid’s nose.” Miss Rogue speaks up at that comment, telling me vehemently, “if they think you’re a neanderthal, then they are one as well for even thinking about it.” “Just don’t actually say that to any of them”, Storm adds quickly, “it might antagonize the other students to escalate their teasing.” “It’s not like it takes much to make them escalate”, I admit, wiping my eyes, “just existing is a good enough reason for them. The rest is just bonus points to make me cry faster.” “Hey”, Logan responds, “if there is ever a time you come home feeling angry or upset from a bad day at school, then you and I can put on the gloves to spar until you feel better. How does that sound kiddo?” “Promise”, I mumble, looking at him. “I promise half pint”, he answers, smiling in encouragement. “Just promise you won’t make a habit of it”, Jean adds, sternly, “sometimes you need to deal with your feelings with something other than fighting.” “Deal”, I tell her and Scott mutters under his breath, “it’s a bad idea to allow her to do it any time.” I ignore the snide remark and announce, “I’ll go back to school and do my best to stay out of trouble”, to everyone. They all smile in relief when I start to eat my dinner and the rest of the night passes peacefully.

I return to school the next day to discover the reason for why I had been suspended to have become extremely exaggerated, by both faculty and students alike, in the retelling. The only part that was remotely right in the retellings was I hit Doug, but the real reason WHY I did it got lost. Doug had spun his own story that I was the aggressor for the incident and hit him in the face with a tree branch for warning me I was too close to being off school property. I didn’t even bother to try and tell the real version, no one wanted to hear it anyways, but do notice that my classmates are avoiding me even more than usual. Through some subtle eavesdropping and mind reading, I discovered the reason was due to Ms Tennis telling my class that I was “violently crazy and belonged in a mental ward.” Needless to say, she lost her job shortly after because the Professor overheard me ask Logan what a mental ward was and why I supposedly belong in one. He AND Jean rose hell and the school district had no choice but to open an investigation to the claim since they wouldn’t allow the school to sweep it under the rug. My classmates, not realizing what Ms Tennis did was wrong, openly admitted she said those things and more to the investigators. After that fiasco, the rest of the faculty and staff kept their comments about me amongst themselves. With my hearing, however, I could still pick up their rude statements and found, “she’s such a problem child” and “god I hope I don’t have to teach her next”, to be the most common of them.

With the short notice firing of Ms Tennis, the school had to find a temporary replacement for her and hired a teacher named Mr Cooper for the rest of the year. He was kind and fair to everyone, even me, and soon realized I didn’t speak up or participate in class discussions because of everyone being allowed to tease me whenever I asked a question. He put a quick stop to that, much to my classmates’ displeasure, and even sent many of them to the Principal’s office for any unprovoked bullying he caught. I opened up to him a bit and asked if there was any way to catch up on everything I was still behind in. He let me stay indoors for recess the rest of the year and tutored me in things Ms Tennis had been purposefully failing me on. When he saw one of the Harry Potter books in my backpack, he soon realized my reading skills were closer to that of a fourth-fifth grade reading level and gave me recommendations on books I may enjoy. Sadly, however, on the last day of school he announced he was given a permanent teaching job in Colorado, since our district wouldn’t hire him, and it made me sad. “Don’t worry Dani”, Jean assures me on the car ride home, “you might get another teacher like him next year.” “I doubt it Mama”, I sigh in regret, “all the teachers hate me and I don’t see the school hiring anyone who might actually treat me fairly anytime soon.” “Well don’t let that bother you”, Scott states, “the world is full of people who discriminate and the best course is to ignore them. Eventually it will catch up to them.” “Whatever”, I answer with an eye roll, “I’m just happy I don’t have to go back for summer school.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small time jump readers. Dani is now in the third grade and finds out on the first day of school that most of her bullies are in her class.
> 
> Also, sorry for the late upload for this chapter.

I successfully made it through the second grade without any incidents and, after a hard summer of training four days a week with Logan, I lost my skin and bones appearance. I am still short, measly 4’5”, but Jean isn’t too concerned because, even though it’s slow, I AM still growing. However, over the summer she tried to get a full body x-ray of my skeleton to see if that would give her a clue on how I’m possibly growing, but my claustrophobia caused me to have a full blown panic attack. That was also the day where everyone, save for Logan, learned that I’m practically immune to all but the most potent sedatives and tranquilizers unless they go beyond the recommended dosage. When I started to panic, Jean tried to give me a sedative and, instead, triggered a flashback. Logan ended up having to put me in a chokehold to knock me out and suggested she give up on the x-rays unless she’s willing to pump me full of drugs. That week I began weekly “therapy” sessions with the Professor to learn how to deal with my panic attacks.

It is the last night of summer vacation and Gambit announces to everyone at the table how excited Max is to be starting preschool for half days. I choke on my stir fry. “He’s three and has violet eyes”, I protest, “he’ll be brutalized by the older kids for being different.” “What wrong with violet eyes Dani”, Max asks, tilting his head in confusion. “They’re different and kids don’t like different”, I answer while Scott says, “nothing Max. Dani’s just being paranoid.” I glare at Scott in annoyance, “it’s not paranoia if it’s the truth”, I growl. “We understand where you are coming from”, the Professor interjects, stopping the verbal argument between Scott and I before it can start, “you’ve dealt with merciless teasing during school and afraid it’ll happen to Max. However, unlike your case where you were thrusted into an already awkward situation, Max’s experience will be much different since he’ll grow along with his classmates.” “Thanks for reminding me”, I mutter under my breath. “Hopefully tomorrow will go smoothly and my classmates will just continue to ignore me like last year”, I think sullenly. Jean and the Professor, most likely picking up that last thought, exchange a sad look, but don’t bring it up.

Scott drops me off at school, bright and early, and yells out the window, “try to stay out of trouble”, causing other students being dropped off to snicker. “Thanks Scott”, I grumble, “with my luck, I’ll be sent home before the day is over.” I drag my feet, not looking forward to seeing who’s in my class, but eventually make it to the classroom. “This year is going to suck”, I think as I look around and see most of my tormentors are in my class this year. I keep my head down and try to make my way to a desk but get blocked by the most popular boy in my grade. “Who let the psycho into our class”, Zack says loudly, making everyone burst out laughing. “Calm thoughts, calm thoughts”, I repeat in my head, even though I have the urge to push him out of my way, and Lauren adds in her nasty tone to her click of friends, “so much for hoping she’d run away and never come back”, causing them to snicker. “Settle down now and find a seat”, the teacher, Mrs Green states as she enters the room. She stops when she sees me and I hear her whisper under her breath, “I deserve a raise”, before yelling at me to get in my seat. I take a seat in the very back corner of the room, hoping this will prevent spitballs, and watch as my classmates fight to NOT be the ones who have to sit next to me. I glance around the room and internally groan when I realize that I’m now the shortest person in the classroom. “My chances of being ignored just moved to zero”, I think, putting my thumbnail in my mouth, “maybe I can beg Mama to get me transferred to another class.”

“Dani Grey, I’m talking to you”, Mrs Green snaps with an annoyed look on her face, pulling me from my thoughts as my classmates laugh at my inattention. “Do you want to be sent to Principal Kelly’s office the first day for failing to pay attention, or will you answer my question”, she states, staring at me. I sink in my chair, “what was the question again”, I mumble, causing everyone to laugh even harder. “What did you do over summer break”, she huffs, making it very clear she doesn’t like me. “I read the summer reading list and then some”, I answer, “I also practiced my… special talents, went camping with my… uncle, and learned how to do gymnastics”, giving half truths. Since the school was very much unaware that I’m a mutant, I have been given permission by the Professor to lie if I ever get asked personal questions. This also included making Logan my “uncle” and the Professor my “grandfather”.

“What talents would you know that are special and require practice”, Zack snickers, “I didn’t realize you were trying to perfect being a freak.” “My talents would make your head spin to try to even comprehend Zack”, I growl in anger, “in fact, I’m pretty sure you’d wet yourself.” The class goes dead silent, trying to determine whether or not I just made a threat, when Mrs Green yells, “you, office, NOW”, pointing at me. “For what” I scoff, “I was just saying my talents would most likely scare him.” “Well the way you implied it makes it sound like you’re threatening him. Now leave before I call the public safety officer to escort you”, she snaps back. I roll my eyes and grab my backpack before making my way out of the classroom. “You’re going to seriously regret that”, Zack hisses as I pass his desk, “mark my words, you’ll wish you kept your mouth shut.” “Yeah, you and what army”, I think, giving him a smug half smile to show his ACTUAL threat didn’t faze me.

“What did you do now”, Ms Tutnam, the secretary, exasperates when I enter the office, “it’s only been an hour since school started.” “Apparently answering questions truthfully is threatening now”, I snark, plopping myself into one of the waiting room chairs. Principal Kelly, no doubt hearing my voice, steps out of his office and snidely states, “the school year has barely begun and yet here you are. Perhaps we should label one of those chairs with your name since you sit in them the most.” “I didn’t even do anything”, I snap back, not caring about my tone, “how is the teacher taking something completely out of context remotely my fault?” “Because almost everything that comes out of your mouth is either a lie or hostile”, he retorts. “Now, will you behave or will Ms Tutnam be forced to call your parents?” “I’ll behave”, I growl, pissed off that he still wouldn’t hear my side of things but also used to it. “Am I allowed to go back to class or will you actually listen to the “reason” why I’m here in the first place?” “Go back to class but, mark my words, if you end up back here today for any reason I WILL call your parents”, he threatens. “Whatever”, I huff, leaving the office and walking back to this year’s new hellhole. I ignore all my classmates’ stares and instigations by staying quiet the rest of the day. Last thing I needed was a lousy excuse to be sent home from school and subsequently grounded. “I can’t wait to go home”, I think miserably from the tree I’m hiding in during recess, “I could really use a sparring match so I don’t explode.”

“Okay, what happened kiddo”, Logan asks when I seek him out the minute I get home. Venting angrily, I reply, “I got in trouble because my teacher assumed I was making threats to another student who, by the way ACTUALLY threatened me with no repercussions, because I told him he’d wet himself if he saw what “special talents” I practiced over the break. So I got sent to the office where, of course, my dumbass principal threatens to call Scott and Mama if I ended up in the office again today, not caring that I didn’t do anything wrong. I ended up hiding in a tree during recess to avoid my classmates because I figured they’d try to get me in trouble and staying quiet the rest of the day.” Logan sighs at the end of my rant, seeing I’m very close to losing my temper, and asks, “bare knuckle or do you think you can wait long enough for us to grab gloves?” I launch a quick strike to his stomach, which he blocks with ease and a chuckle. “Bare knuckle it is, but no powers okay”, he responds, countering my next strike with a jab. We continue to fight back and forth for a bit before Jean comes to find me. “It’s the first day of school, what could have possibly happened to warrant a surprise sparring match”, she asks, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I think it would be better to just write you a list”, I respond, not wanting to stop the fight, “because it was a buildup of stuff that crushed my self control into a pulp.” “Trust me”, Logan adds, blocking all my strikes, “she told me everything before we started and it’s quite a lot of bullshit she had to deal with today.” She groans, “if you don’t let Scott know, I’ll accept the list but, next time, talk to me first before finding Logan.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani has gym class and outruns everyone in her grade during the mile. It has it's consequences though and she runs away from Scott after having an argument.

About a month into the school year, I discovered my worst and least favorite subject… math. I am decent at addition and subtraction, but found I am downright terrible at multiplication and division. I can eventually get the correct answer, by adding in my head, however that causes me to turn in most of my timed tests half finished. Mrs Green hands out the latest timed test and I stare at it with dread. It’s a mixed math test of multiplication and division problems and only a handful I knew right off the bat. “You have 30 minutes class”, Mrs Green states, “begin now”, and I groan at the short time limit. “I wish I could cheat”, I offhandedly think, desperately filling out the few problems I knew, “it’s not like any of my classmates would know I’m reading their minds.” Unfortunately, the Professor and Jean would know if my test scores suddenly started becoming perfect. They both warned me to NOT use my telepathy to cheat off my classmates or I will be grounded for the entire school year. I start on the harder questions and end up doing my slow head count in frustration to answer them. Halfway through my own test, Mrs Green announces, “finish up class, you only have 5 minutes left”, and I panic. “I’m going to fail ANOTHER math test”, I realize miserably. “Scott’s going to have my head or find some way to tutor me.” I scribble random numbers in the problems I haven’t completed before the teacher can collect my test and sink in my chair. “I will grade these and go over the correct answers while you are in gym class”, she informs us. “Now line up.” We line up into a single file line and get escorted to the gymnasium by her.

“Today we are doing the mandatory Presidential Fitness Test” Coach Baserd yells and blows his whistle menacingly. “Coach Bastard”, I mutter under my breath, flinching at the torture of the high pitched sound. “One of these days”, I think angrily, “I’m going to hide that stupid thing or make you choke on it.” Coach Baserd, pronounced Bah-sir-d, was hired during my second grade year. I think I’m partially to blame on why our last teacher quit because she screamed and went a little nuts why I broke a baseball bat… with my head. Another kid in class thought it would be funny to hit me in the back of the head with a wooden bat during baseball when the teacher wasn’t looking and caused it to splinter into pieces when it made contact with my adamantium cranium. The kid got away with it, of course, by claiming it was an accident and I was forced to pretend I was in excruciating pain. If I hadn’t, the school would most definitely know I was a mutant. Mrs Ray, the kind school nurse, saw through my bullshit when I went to see her after the incident and promised to keep my secret from Principal Kelly since he has made it well-known he’s anti-mutant. Anyways, back to Coach Bastard… I mean Baserd. Day one of being hired at the school Mrs Ray informed him he wasn’t allowed to use his whistle in my class since I have documentation that I have sensitive ears and it causes me pain. He didn’t give two shits and has used the damn thing anyway since he can get away with it.

“We’ll start off with the mile run”, he yells at us, “that’s four laps around the track. Once you complete your four laps, tell me and I’ll give you your time.” “Crap”, I think, putting my thumbnail in my mouth, “I naturally run faster than others because my healing factor keeps me from fatiguing as quickly and allows me to push my muscles to the limit. If I don’t know what the current time is for each lap, I’ll have some serious explaining to do if I finish in less than four minutes.” “Um sir, why don’t you just say the times as we pass you”, the smart, popular girl Amanda asks in confusion. “That’s what my dad does as coach of the high school’s track and field team.” “Fine, whatever”, he begrudges, “just line up.” We line up on the track and the shrill sound of the whistle disorients my take off, making me start last. Zack was in the front of the pack, already bragging that no one will be able to beat him. “Wanna bet”, I think with a smirk, and slowly start to pick up my pace to start passing my classmates. I maintain a short distance between Zack and I for the first lap, finding a relaxing stride until I pass the coach and hear “2 minutes and 5 seconds.” “I can afford to speed things up a notch without being obvious”, I think, getting closer to Zack until we’re neck and neck by the second lap. “Give it up”, he huffs, clearly struggling to maintain his speed, “you can’t beat me with your short legs.” “I’m sorry, is this speed not fast enough”, I reply smugly, hardly winded, “because I can still hear you talking.” “3 minutes and 58 seconds”, the coach yells as we pass him for our final lap. “Eat my dust slowpoke”, I yell at Zack, throwing caution to the wind and pulling ahead as I push my muscles beyond their typical limit. I pass the coach again and he shouts, “4 minutes and 53 seconds”, before looking at his watch in shock. Zack comes in behind me almost 2 minutes later and tries to pick a fight with me.

“You freak”, he yells, pissed off, “there’s no way you should be able to run that fast.” “My uncle Logan is 6’3” and I had to learn to run fast to keep up with his jog”, I retort, trying to not let on to how much pain I’m in. The muscles I tore in my legs from running that fast have already healed, but the pain still lingers, along with the need to inhale about 5000 calories and take a nap. He shoves past me. “You are going to regret this”, he hisses as he passes and I reply flippantly, “you keep saying that, yet you don’t deliver. Guess you’re nothing but talk.” That enrages him enough to push me to the ground right in front of Coach Baserd. “Okay, that’s enough you two”, he yells. “Dani, if I hear you start to instigate another fight I’ll send you to the office.” “He shoved me, and I’m the one getting yelled at”, I growl, seething in anger. He blows his whistle at me in warning and I say, “fine, whatever”, to him and try desperately to not limp back to the gym with my classmates for the next part of the test.

The next two tests I do poorly on, since I’ve exhausted myself already, and find I can’t focus. On the flex arm hang, I’m reminded of the number one disadvantage of having a skeleton coated in an indestructible metal. I’m over 100 pounds heavier than I appear, a fact that is hard to explain away if I get weighed by a normal person, and don’t have the arm strength to lift myself physically for more than 30 seconds unless I make myself ‘lighter’ by using telekinesis to offset some of the weight. The same thing goes for the push up test and I am only able to do 15 pushups before giving up. My body is screaming in agony by the time we finish the flexibility test and I can feel myself becoming lightheaded when gym ends. I struggle to maintain consciousness the rest of the day, and find myself dozing off a couple times during the math review. Lunch time helps me feel better, along with the nap I take on the roof of the school during recess, but I look forward trying to take another nap when I get home.

“It’s probably not going to happen”, I think, sitting down on the sidewalk as I wait for Scott to pick me up. “He’s going to flip out and force me to study even more when he sees my test”, I mutter under my breath, staring at the big 45 written in red marker at the top of my test sheet. I rub my still aching legs as I wait and overhear someone say my name. I look around in confusion until I see Zack talking to a much older kid, most likely a high schooler, and he points at me. I have neither the energy or concern to bother finding out why he’s complaining about me to an older kid and choose to ignore the situation. Scott pulls up shortly after and I hand him my test paper as I get in. “Are you even trying Dani”, he shouts as I buckle myself into the back seat, “you wrote the same answer for half of the questions.” “I’m sorry I suck at math”, I growl crankily, “but no amount of drills, note cards, and study sessions will change that fact it seems. Now can we please go home. I’m too tired and hungry to handle your inevitable lecture right now.” I can feel the gears in his head grinding at my statement, as we drive off of the school’s property, and he asks in a suspicious tone, “why exactly are you too tired and hungry?” “Today was the mandatory Presidential Fitness Test in gym class. Can we just leave it at that”, I ask, pleadingly.

My pleading confirms his suspicions and he accusingly asks, “what did you do young lady and I want the truth.” “I ran the mile in 4 minutes and 53 seconds”, I admit, leaving out the injuries I had to heal while running. He groans at my answer and snaps, “what part of ‘don’t show off’ did you not grasp young lady?” “What difference does it make”, I retort back, “I can run much faster than that and only beat the second kid by 2 minutes. It’s not THAT big a deal.” “It is a big deal missy”, he yells, pissed, “your principal is looking for ANY excuse to throw you out of school. He’s even made talks and pushed for there to be mandatory testing of all staff and students to weed out any mutants in the school because of his prejudice. If he gets his way, you’ll be thrown out of school and outed as a mutant, is that what you want?” “Maybe I don’t care anymore”, I scream, losing my temper, “maybe I’m sick of being the outsider at that fucking school and don’t care what happens anymore.” He stops at a red light and turns to me in the back seat. “What have I said to you about your language Dani”, he scolds, but I ignore him and unbuckle my seatbelt before jumping out of the car.

“Are you out of your mind”, he yells, livid, but I take off running from the car to hear anything else he says. The pain from earlier makes itself known and tears stream down my face as I cut through several yards to lose Scott chasing me in the car. I lose him, but don’t bother to slow down in case he finds me again. I make it to the park that’s within walking distance of the Institute when my legs give out and I fall to the ground. I groan, face down in the grass, in agony and try to move. “Shit”, I moan when my efforts to move any part of my body fails and begin to realize how screwed I am. I don’t know how long I lay there in pain and exhaustion before I hear the unmistakable voice of Max. “Why Dani lying on ground Daddy”, I hear him ask Gambit and he answers, “I don’t Max, but stay here.” He shakes my shoulder asking, “you still alive little lady”, and I groan, “yes.” “Do you mind telling me why you’re laying face down in the grass and acting like a corpse”, he asks with some worry in his voice. “Because I overdid it”, I mumble, “I’m in too much pain and exhaustion to move anymore.” He sighs, “well consider yourself lucky that I found you and not an innocent bystander”, he retorts, rolling me over onto my back and I wince from the agony. He tries to lift me up, but gives up because of my weight, and tells Max, “Max, sit by Dani while Daddy makes a call. You can tell her about your new friend in preschool to keep yourself entertained.” “Okay”, he responds in excitement and starts talking my ear off about his new best friend Casey.

“Geez, you were not kidding”, I hear Logan state about 15 minutes later and I open my eyes. “Scott did say she admitted to overdoing it in gym class before escaping from his car”, Jean says with a sigh, “how are you feeling Dani?” “Like my body weighs a thousand pounds, my muscles got replaced with string, and I’m in complete agony”, I answer, getting pulled into a seated position by Logan. “Then maybe you’ll think twice about showing off next time”, Jean scolds me, checking my pulse. “I ran the mile in a little less than 5 minutes”, I whine, “Logan can attest he’s seen me run faster.” He chuckles, “I think what caused her to overdo it today wasn’t because she went all out”, he says with some sympathy, “it’s because she had to hold back Jean. I have timed her sprints and mile training runs over various terrain and she most certainly can run faster than that.” She looks at both of our minds, probing to see if either of us is lying, and sighs when she finds no evidence. “Fine, I’ll agree to lower your grounding from two weeks to the rest of this week”, she states, giving my nose a tap, “but only if you give a sincere apology to Scott for your actions. You gave him quite the fright running off like that.” “I agree”, I say and then admit quietly, “can you carry me home Logan… I don’t think I can stand up.” He scoops me up off the ground and whispers, “no problem half pint, let’s go home.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani tries to keep her head during another gym class and winds up showing off again.

I try to keep my head down for the next few weeks to stay out of trouble when, during another gym class, Coach Baserd announces we’re playing dodgeball today. “Great”, I internally groan, covering my ears to muffle the excited screams of my classmates, “the game that encourages the bullies to target their victims with impunity.” Thankfully I still have my ears covered because Coach Bastard blows his whistle to calm everyone down. Zack whispers to his friends, pointing at me in the process, and they all start snickering. I glare at them, making most of them stop laughing, but Zack just stares me down. “He’s going to make sure I’m NOT on his team so he can target me”, I think, rolling my eyes and giving him my “whatever” attitude to show I’m not intimidated. That clearly pisses him off and he mimes cutting his throat to signal I’m “dead meat”.

Zack and Amanda, the most popular kids in my class, are appointed team captains and they start picking the biggest, strongest looking kids first. Surprisingly, I’m not picked last this time, but that might have to do with Amanda hating little Johnny for trying to kiss her during the school’s Halloween party on a dare. I follow my team to our side of the court, lining up against the wall as the coach gets the red rubber balls placed in the middle. I take a deep, calming breath, thinking, “remember to not show off”, when the shrill sound of the whistle is blown to signal the game has started. Due to my disorientation from the whistle, I get out easily the first match and watch the rest of my teammates get slaughtered by Zack’s team. The second match goes just as poorly, except that I was the last player standing and got pummeled in the face by the balls. “Hey, we aren’t supposed to aim for the face”, I yell, pissed, and Coach Bastard tells me to “get over it.”

That comment intensifies my pissed mood to downright anger, but I try my best to keep myself calm. “Now is not the time to get angry”, I whisper to myself, covering my ears to protect them from the “fwtt” of the whistle. Zack orders his team, “leave the freak for last again”, and my blood boils at the word “freak”. “Don’t get mad, stay calm”, I keep reminding myself as my team dwindles down to three compared to Zack’s eight. One of the weaker kids on his side throws a ball at me, which I catch easily, and Zack screams, “I said leave the freak for last.” I lob my ball at him in anger, but he blocks it with the ball in his hands. They wait to have all five balls on their before pelting Amanda with them, giving her no options to dodge. She does manage to catch one of the balls thrown at her, leaving us six versus two. However, even if we had more players left, Zack still has his three strongest teammates on his side and it was clear we were going to lose, again. My teammate surrenders, allowing themselves to get out easily, leaving me alone to face six players. “Aim for the freak’s head again”, Zack commands, picking up a ball, “maybe a bloody nose will teach her to respect her betters.”

All semblance of trying to keep calm gets thrown out the window at that and I snarl in anger, “let’s see you try.” I sprint towards the gym’s wall on my side, making it look like I’m going to run away, and hear, “get her.” I perform a running jump up the wall and do a backflip to prevent all the balls from hitting me because the other side aimed for my height not expecting that. The wooden floor of the gymnasium cracks a bit on my landing, since I forgot about my added density, but I honestly don’t care. I want blood and I’m going to get it. I grab a ball from my side, before it can roll to their side, and launch it at the face of the biggest kid. He goes down like a ton of bricks, screaming like he’s dying, and I smile at how fast he runs off the court. That causes the others to break, from their obvious shock at my backflip, and grab the balls that rolled to their side. They throw them and I show off by dodging the shots with a handless cartwheel. I scoop up another ball, adding a tiny bit of telekinetic power behind the throw, and send it flying towards another kid. He attempts to catch it and breaks his finger instead for his efforts, howling in pain. One of the four kids remaining on Zack’s side look like they might wet themselves, so I go a bit easy on them and target their feet instead. They give a look of gratitude as they leave the court, but I can’t do anything to reciprocate since I’m forced to dodge two balls at once. The third ball gets tossed at me and I catch it with ease before sending it at the Zack’s last remaining teammate’s crotch.

Now, it’s just Zack and I in a sudden death showdown and I crack my neck. “What was that about giving me a bloody nose”, I ask in a scary, calm voice, grabbing a ball. “Die freak”, he screams, throwing a ball haphazardly in fear and I dodge it. I stop the ball from rolling back to his side and ask in the same scary tone, “you think you’re better than me because you’re bigger than me?” He throws another ball, and I dodge that one as well. “Well, from what I see, you are nothing”, I hiss, “and now everyone else knows it.” He only has one ball left now, the rest are on my side, but my last comment enrages him to throw it at my head. I twist to the left, holding my ball in my right hand, and dodge his shot as I use the momentum from my turn to add power behind mine. The ball connects with his face and he drops to the floor, yelling, “you broke my nose.” He’s clutching his bleeding nose as my teammates scream, “Oh my god we won”, and I feel my anger fade, being replaced with satisfaction at showing him up.

Our reverie is cut short by Coach Baserd blowing his whistle long and hard as he stomps towards me. “Dani”, he shouts, his face turning as red as a tomato, “how many times do I have to yell about throwing dodgeballs intentionally at other’s faces?” “I believe your exact words were to ‘get over it’ when the same thing happened to me last game”, I answer coolly, and hear the class gasp at my boldness to talk back to a teacher. He blows his whistle in my face, causing me to flinch in pain, and roars, “you, office, NOW!” “For what Coach Bastard”, I yell back in defiance, slipping on his name in my anger. “Talking back, swearing, intentionally injuring your classmates, and performing several dangerous stunts. Don’t think I didn’t see those acrobatics”, he yells back just as angry. I go to talk back one more time, but he blows his whistle to cut me off and I snap. If the public safety officer hadn’t come to investigate all the screaming, I probably would have strangled Coach Baserd with his lanyard when I grabbed his whistle in anger.

To say Principal Kelly is mad, when I get marched to his office, would be an understatement. He is downright furious, especially since he has to listen to both sides of the story since the public safety officer refused to leave. “I’m sorry for hitting my classmates in the face”, I lie convincingly, “it was an accident caused by the stress of being the last one on my team again. The last game they hit me in the head and the teacher told me to get over it. When they announced their intentions to give me a bloody nose this time, I panicked.” “And what, pray tell, is your excuse for strangling Coach Baserd and calling him a bastard”, Principal Kelly asks, clearly waiting to see how I would try to get out of that one. “A Freudian slip”, I answer, “his name is very close to the other word and in all honesty, I was just trying to grab his whistle cause he kept blowing it in my face despite Mrs Ray’s instructions. In my disorientation, I forgot the lanyard was around his neck.” Coach Baserd turns red when the public safety officer verifies that part of my story. “She is correct sir”, he states, “I heard several long whistle blows before all the screaming started. Also, from the sounds of it, her classmates were intentionally leaving her for last and openingly threatening her while this teacher”, he gestures to Coach Baserd, “did nothing, no wonder she panicked. In my honest opinion sir, you should ban dodgeball like other school districts have done because it’s designed to pick on the weak.”

With the public safety officer on my side, and no expellable offenses were made that couldn’t be explained away, Principal Kelly has no other choice but to let me go back to class. “Just leave the gymnastics for home or wherever you practice them”, he scolds, “or I will call your parents. Just because you know how to do something, it won’t stop your classmates from getting hurt trying to copy you.” “Yes sir”, I respond, staring at the floor, and leave his office. While on my way back to class, the school’s speakers turn on and an announcement rings throughout the school. “Due to an incident today, dodgeball is hereby banned from the school. Also, teachers are reminded to adhere to every student’s accommodations whether you think it necessary or not. Failure to do so will result in disciplinary actions.” I smirk, “guess I saved the weak from the tyranny of the strong as well as get another teacher in trouble”, think smugly. “It’s about damn time something went my way in this stupid school.” Zack, whose nose I only bloodied, is seething in his seat when I enter the classroom. He fixes me with a death glare as I pass his desk and I mutter, “if looks could kill”, before taking my seat. “You’re the reason we can’t have nice things”, some of my class hisses at me, but I choose to ignore their petty insults and focus on class. During recess, Zack seeks me out and tells me, “better watch your back freak, because you’re going to get what’s coming to you.” “Can you just give up already” I respond with another eyeroll, “I am not afraid of you nor will I EVER be afraid of you.” He storms off, unable to do much else since I’m quietly reading within eyesight of the teachers, with a “you’ll regret saying that”, and I treat it like all his other empty threats, I ignore it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani has a bad experience with some high school football players and things go terribly wrong.

I sit outside the school on a bench reading as I wait for Scott to come pick me up. “He’s late”, I grumble, “he’s never late.” I’m contemplating whether or not it would be worth getting in trouble to walk home at this point when Zack plants himself right in front of me. Tired, hungry, and downright cranky, I sarcastically ask, “can I help you”, as I stand up to leave. “You sure can freak”, he replies, grinning evilly, “you can hold still.” “Like hell I will”, I snarl, moving to go past him just as pain erupts at the back of my skull. “What the fuck”, I groan with disorientation, as I struggle to remain standing, just to have the pain happen again. Even with my adamantium skull to protect my brain, the second blow drops me to my knees and I have to fight the urge to pass out. “Damn Zack”, I hear a strange, older male voice say behind me, “you weren’t kidding when you said she is a freak. Her head dented the bat.” The owner comes into my view, holding a dented metal bat in one hand, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s the same older kid I’ve seen Zack talk to after school. He bends over to get a closer look at my face, “how the hell are you conscious”, he asks in bewilderment and Zack retorts, “because she’s a freak of nature, that’s how.”

Despite the pounding in my head, head injuries take a bit to heal due to my mental powers, I struggle back to my feet and drop my backpack and book on the sidewalk. “Wow, you can still stand”, the older boy states in surprise, “guess that means I didn’t hit you hard enough the first two times.” He raises the bat, swinging at my head again, but I duck the blow and try to run away only to get tripped by Zack. “Not so fast”, he sneers, “you can’t escape yet, you haven’t been properly punished.” The older kid forces me back to my feet by grabbing the back of my shirt and, when I struggle to break loose, kicks me in the gut. I vomit my lunch from the force of the impact, collapsing once more on to the ground as Zack gloats, “my big brother Kyle is on the football team, so I suggest you stop struggling unless you want more pre-punishment punishment.” The older boy, Kyle, kneels down to pick me up and I start doing, what Scott calls, my ‘heavy ragdoll’ act by going completely limp. “Good luck lifting me asshole”, I think in triumph, “Logan’s the only one who can lift me without throwing out his back when I go limp noodle and, while you struggle, my healing factor will either finish healing my head injuries or Scott will finally arrive to stop you.” Kyle, grunting in the effort, manages to lift me up onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and comments, “wow, for someone so tiny you certainly are a heavy bitch.”

“Let me go”, I growl, starting to struggle on his shoulder, and try to elbow his head. He throws me to the ground before I even get the chance and my head makes a metallic clunk in my ear when it makes contact with the pavement. I whimper in pain, my vision growing blurry from the most recent assault to my skull, and scream when Kyle grabs me by my hair. Dragging me by my hair, Kyle and Zack lead me away from the elementary school as I cry in panic. I let them drag me, no longer struggling to break free since the third severe head injury is currently scrambling my brain, and try praying the adrenaline from my panic will accelerate my healing enough for me to try and run again. “Soon you freaky little bitch”, Kyle says menacingly, “soon you are going to wish you NEVER messed with my little brother.” “Why are you doing this”, I moan, “where are you taking me?” Zack laughs at my confusion. “Why? Because you made a mockery of me in front of the entire class”, he sneers, “and hopefully, once you’ve received your punishment, you’ll never set one foot back into this school again.” “Jerk”, I spit as I’m forced to the football stadium that marks the border between the high school and elementary school, “you think this will give you my respect? Never going to happen because whatever you have planned, trust me when I say, I have probably been dealt much worse from people far scarier than you.”

On the field of the football stadium a large group of high school males are standing around, obviously waiting for Kyle, and immediately surround me when I’m forced to the ground in front of them. Judging by their distinctly comparable smells to Kyle, I can only assume these guys are also members of the football team and are here on his orders. “This”, one of the players says with skepticism while pointing at me, “is supposed to be the freak your brother’s been complaining about Kyle? She’s so tiny and unintimidating.” “Yeah dude, this little kid doesn’t look THAT extraordinary,” another, slightly deeper voice, comments, “are you sure she deserves the beat down you were describing?” “She deserves everything and more”, Zack yells in frustration, “she tried to kill the gym coach, got dodgeball BANNED, and, judging by the smug look on her face when she came back to class, didn’t get into ANY trouble.” “Are you serious”, I shout, struggling back to my feet once more as I glare at Zack, “you asked your big brother and his goons to beat me up because of those petty reasons! Afraid to handle me yourself? You are a sad, pathetic piece of…”, I don’t get to finish. Zack, enraged that I’m not pissing myself, cuts me off by kicking me in the gut and knocking the wind out of me. “Go wait in the car Zack”, Kyle hisses, grabbing his brother and shoving him away, and Zack whines, “why? I wanted to witness the beatdown.” “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble we’ll get in if we get caught”, Kyle warns, “we need you to act as a lookout. Honk the car horn if you see ANYONE coming so we have time to get away.” “Fine”, he grumbles, clearly disappointed, but follows Kyle’s orders and leaves.

I try to make a break for it, but get cut off by the rest of the group and pushed back towards Kyle. I attempt to form a telekinetic barrier around me in defense, but almost pass out from the effort by a headache splitting my brain. “Now what”, a scrawny player asks, “do we beat her as a group or one at a time?” “I have a better idea”, Kyle states with an evil grin, and draws a knife from his pocket. “Whoa, what the hell man”, deep voice yells in horror, “she’s just a little kid. Put down the knife dude.” “She made a mockery of Zack”, Kyle answers sadistically, “so I plan on making sure she doesn’t forget her lesson or punishment.” Fear and shock grip me tight when I look into Kyle’s eyes and realize he’s dead serious on using that knife on me. I turn my back to try and push my way through the wall of football players to escape, but he grabs a huge chunk of my hair and yanks me back. With a psychotic laugh, he cuts off the hair he’s holding with the knife and I watch in horror as it falls to the ground at his feet. “Let’s cut up that pretty face of yours”, he says, putting the knife to my cheek and cuts a deep line into my face. “Whoa, she must be in shock or something”, someone says, “she’s not even screaming.” “Either that or she’s not getting the picture”, Kyle yells and slashes my chest next. My mind goes blank at the cut and, when he goes to slash me once more, I grab his wrist with breathtaking speed. My vision clears as I snap his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife in pain, and I crack my neck as I survey my captures. “What the fuck, she broke my wrist”, Kyle screams and the football players start backing away in horror when they see the cut on my cheek knit itself back together. “Oh god, she’s a mutant, RUN”, one player yells at the same time as a deep voice shouts, “we made a huge mistake.”

In a cold, unfeeling voice, I respond, “I am not just any mutant, I’m Weapon X-2.” The scrawny player attempts to punch me in the face, no doubt hoping to knock me out, and instead turns white as a sheet when his hand and wrist severely break at the impact. Some of the players, realizing it’s futile to fight, try to run from me in all directions. “I don’t think so”, I say robotically, lifting myself into the air a bit as I drag them all back towards me with telekinesis. Their screams of terror have no effect on me and quickly turn to screams of agony when I break their legs to prevent them from trying to run again. “Now”, I state, marching towards Kyle, as he nurses his snapped wrist and stares in horror. “Now”, I repeat myself, looking at the crippled group around me, “one of you is a traitor to the Weapon X Program.” I reach out to grab Kyle’s skull with both hands as he yells, “we have no idea what you’re talking about. Let us go.” “Master Stryker has ordered me to find out who it is by any means necessary”, I state, digging into his brain with telepathy, “and dispose of them.” Screams echo my mind as I give into my anger and everything else just slips away.

Someone is shaking me and saying my name in an urgent manner when I regain consciousness. Opening my eyes, I see that someone is Logan and that he’s looking extremely worried. “Logan”, I mumble, feeling myself start to pass out again, “I don’t feel good.” He shakes me once more, saying in fear, “come on kiddo, don’t pass out on me. We have to go NOW!” “Why”, I answer, tiredly, as I get pulled to my feet and start to lean heavily on Logan’s kneeling form to keep myself upright. “Shit, not good”, he utters, realizing I’m dead on my feet, and picks me up. “We have to leave before they wake up half pint”, he explains and I look around to see all the boys who ganged up on me all lying on the ground unconscious with clearly broken legs. “What happened”, I ask in fear, feeling more awake in my panic and starting to hyperventilate. “Whoa Dani, calm down”, Logan states soothingly, guiding my nose to his shoulder and stroking my back. “I don’t know what happened but I need you to slow your breathing down.” I try to do as he asks, taking deep breaths of his scent in order to calm myself, as he takes me away from the field.

His motorcycle is parked on the grass, my backpack hanging off a handlebar, and he gently sets me down. Grabbing a helmet from the bike, he goes to place it on my head and hesitates when I howl in pain from the pressure it places on my head. “Are you hurt half pint”, he asks in concern, quickly taking the helmet off to check my skull, “did those boys somehow hurt you?” “Baseball bat, twice to my head”, I cry, wincing when he touches the back of my head, “then I got thrown to the ground and slammed my head on the pavement.” He looks into my eyes, covering and uncovering them with his hand, and curses. “Dani”, he says calmly, “I know you’re exhausted and in immense pain, however I need you to stay awake and put the helmet back on. Can you do that for me?” “I’ll try”, I whimper before I begin to vomit what’s left in my stomach when a wave of nausea overtakes me. “Well now I know why you aren’t healing properly”, he says with worry, rubbing my back, “did you forget to eat lunch today?” “I got kicked in the stomach earlier”, I croak weakly, “it made me puke from the force.” He gets me on the bike after placing the helmet back on my head, quickly seating himself behind me and wrapping an arm around my chest to prevent me from falling off the bike. “What the fuck could you have possibly done to warrant a bunch of high school boys to attack you”, he asks angrily, picking my backpack off the ground. “Zack asked them to do it”, I sob, pressing my face into the crook of his arm, “one of them was his older brother and he said I deserved to be punished.”

Logan’s only response to my statement was to start the motorcycle and take off from the school immediately, though he does clutch me even tighter. We are about a block and a half away from the school grounds when a bunch of police cars and ambulances pass by with their sirens blaring and their lights flashing. I tense up from the noise and bright lights, the pain in my head increasing again along with my nausea. “You okay there kiddo”, he asks with worry and I shake my head no despite the pain radiating through it. He pulls over once the emergency vehicles have passed just in time for me to start dry heaving from my overwhelming nausea on the side of the road. I’m so out of it after that, I don’t really remember much else on the ride home except for Logan constantly shaking me and urging me to stay awake. “Tired, so tired”, I whisper, my head dropping forward once more upon his arm. “We’re almost home Dani”, he answers in relief, “as soon as Jean checks you out she’ll let you rest but, for now, please hold on.”

I’m barely conscious when Logan stops and turns off the motorcycle and gingerly takes off the helmet. I whimper in pain and he says apologetically, “sorry, I know it hurts but are you still with me?” “Yes”, I hiss is pain, “but I don’t know for how long. My vision is blurring again.” He lifts me up off the bike, carrying me quickly inside all while coaxing me to stay awake. “Jean”, he shouts anxiously when we enter the foyer, “Jean, come quick. Dani’s been attacked and she’s hurt pretty bad.” My eyes start to drift shut when she shouts back, “oh my god, what happened?” She forces me to open my eyes and adds, “nevermind, explain on the way. She needs to be taken to the medical bay immediately.” “I don’t know all of what happened”, Logan explains, “but it sounds like a bully from her class asked a bunch of high schoolers to beat her up for some reason. I found her unconscious on the football field, surrounded by equally unconscious teenagers with broken limbs, after I went to investigate the sounds of screaming. She mentioned being hit in the head with a baseball bat, twice, but I didn’t find one at the scene. I did find this however”, he adds, handing Jean a bloody knife after placing me on one of the metal tables in the med bay. She takes the knife, putting it aside for now, and takes out a penlight to shine into my eyes.

I yelp in pain from the brightness of the light as she groans, “she’s definitely showing signs of a concussion, but why isn’t she healing it?” “She said she puked when someone kicked her in the stomach and mentioned hitting her head on the pavement”, he answers quickly, “and she vomited what was most likely left in her stomach before I got her on to the bike. She also ended up dry heaving when some emergency vehicles passed us on our way home, so her tank is running on empty.” “Tired”, I moan and Jean immediately responds to me, “you need to stay awake sweetheart. It’s very important you remain conscious with your current head injury.” Turning back to Logan, she asks, “can you go grab the Professor while I try to keep her awake. He needs to be informed about what happened.” “No problem”, he answers, going to walk away but I grab his hand crying, “don’t leave me”, in panic. “Stay and talk to her, but don’t push her”, she tells him, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead, “I’ll get the Professor.” She leaves hurriedly out of the med bay as I feel myself grow heavy with exhaustion. “What happened Wildcat”, Logan asks, trying to keep me upright on the table, “how did you end up unconscious on the field?” “I don’t remember much”, I reply weakly, feeling the heaviness increase, “I remember them surrounding me along with moments of pain. I think someone tried punching me, but I’m not sure. I was distracted by the screaming, so much screaming.” “Why were they screaming Dani”, he asks, fear lacing his voice and I answer, “I don’t know, everything goes blank”, before listing forward. He catches me before I can fall off the table, yelling, “stay awake kiddo”, but the darkness and heaviness are stronger than his words and I pass out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An injured Dani gets questioned to what happened on the football field to no avail. Later that night, answers get revealed but not for the better.

“What do you mean she can’t remember”, I hear Jean exclaim loudly as I slowly regain consciousness, but keep my eyes closed so no one will notice I’m awake just yet. “I’m saying”, the Professor answers calmly, “is that when I went into her mind just now to find out what happened, I hit a proverbial brick wall.” “But how is that even possible”, Logan asks, sounding very skeptical, “I thought you were the most powerful telepath in existence.” “Logan, you of all people should know by now that the mind is delicate”, the Professor responds, slightly annoyed. “The layers of psionic shielding she currently has raised around her mind is breakable. However, with her concussion, I run the risk of causing serious damage to it if something were to go wrong. For now”, he adds in a serious tone, “please go over, from the top, what you observed when you arrived to pick Dani up Logan.” “What good would that do”, Logan growls in frustration, “I have already told you what I saw when I found her. She was surrounded by a group of unconscious high schoolers with a knife on the ground nearby covered in her blood.” “Any observation you made will be valuable Logan”, Jean says calmly, “so please, go over the things you noticed when you first arrived at the school.”

He sighs before stating, “I arrived to pick her up where Scott says she usually says she waits and found only her backpack and book on the ground instead. Dani was nowhere to be seen.” “Was her stuff lying neatly”, the Professor asks, “or did there appear to be signs of a struggle?” There’s a long pause as Logan, most likely, thinks back to the scene before answering. “Her book was pages down on the sidewalk as if it had been dropped”, he finally responds and groans. “And now that I think of it, there was an aluminum bat with a dent in it lying in the grass by a bench. She told me she got hit in the head twice, but I thought she meant at the field. It makes sense now how she wound up at the football field in the first place though, they must have blitz attacked her and dragged her there.” “What drew you towards the field in the first place”, Jean asks with worry, “did you follow her scent there?” “No, it was the sudden sounds of screaming that caught my attention”, Logan admits, “I took off for the field after collecting her stuff, assuming the worst.” “Who was screaming Logan”, the Professor asks with urgency, “was it Dani, the boys, or both and did the screams sound frightened, in pain, or enraged?” Another long pause follows before he responds, “it was mostly male screams of fear and pain, but Dani”, he falters. With a heavy sigh, he continues, “Dani only screamed once and it sounded like a mixture of anger and frustration if that makes any sense. After that, you know the rest from my telling you three times already.”

The Professor must be making a face of concern or something because Jean says, completely flabbergasted, “you can’t possibly think Dani did this Professor. She was unconscious on the field as well and seriously injured.” “It’s unfortunately a serious possibility Jean”, he replies with regret, “we have all seen first hand what Dani is capable of with her powers. We also have all noticed that she has started to display some anger management issues and has started lashing out.” He continues with a sigh, “and when she has lost control of her temper recently, she displayed an increase in control over her powers and strength along with a sudden desire to hurt others. However, during those episodes, she passed out shortly after she calmed down and had no recollection of the events save for the incident that led to her private lessons with Logan. It’s all together quite possible that is what occurred with this incident and will take some prodding to get her to remember.” Suddenly he speaks a bit louder, “Dani, I know you’re awake. Please stop your eavesdropping and join the conversation.”

I notice the room is dimly lit when I open my eyes and see Jean walking over to me. I wince from the brightness of the penlight when she checks my eyes again but am glad it’s not giving me a splitting headache like earlier. “It looks like passing out actually helped her”, she states in relief, “her pupils are now reacting to the light again.” With some added concern, she asks me, “how are you feeling sweetheart? Logan told me you said your head hurt and that you were very nauseous.” “My splitting headache is gone and the pain in the back of my head is nearly gone”, I answer honestly, “but I don’t think I’m ready to eat anything right now.” “That’s understandable”, she replies with a small smile, handing me a bottle of water, “can you at least drink some water by taking small sips for me?” I nod, taking the bottle and take a small sip once it’s opened. I glance around seeing it’s just Jean, the Professor, Logan, and I in the med bay as she helps me sit up on the table. “I’m the one responsible for what happened to those boys”, I state tiredly since it makes the most sense, giving what I’ve heard. Logan looks worried by my statement, but the Professor, on the other hand, wheels himself over to me. “We don’t know that for certain Dani”, he reminds me, grabbing my other hand not preoccupied with holding a water bottle, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “The only people who can truly fill in the missing pieces are you and the boys”, he informs me, prodding me to open my mind to him, “everything I’ve said is just conjecture. This is why I need you to try and remember what happened, but don’t push yourself too hard since you are recovering from a concussion. Can you do that my dear?” “I can try”, I mumble, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, “but no promises.”

“Just try”, he prompts gently, “do you remember waiting for someone to pick you up from school?” I nod, “I’m sitting on the bench in my usual spot waiting for Scott”, I reply with a frown, “but for some reason he’s late.” “Something urgent came up and, after realizing how late it had gotten, Scott asked Logan to pick you up from school”, the Professor explains before asking, “do you remember what happened next?” “I was contemplating whether or not I was willing to be punished for walking home and, when I got up to start walking home, Zack blocked my way before telling me to hold still”, I answer, a tear escaping my closed eyes. “I tried to walk past him when excruciating pain erupts at the back of my head and, before I can react, I get whacked again making me fall to the ground and fight to stay conscious.” Jean starts to lightly probe the back of my head with her fingers and pauses suddenly. I feel her lift some of my hair up and she exclaims, “did they cut your hair”, in shock. “Let’s try to keep things in order Jean”, the Professor interrupts when I go to answer, “I know you’re worried, as am I, but if we have her skip parts instead of going in order of events, it will no doubt confuse her and we could miss something.” He squeezes my hand again, “please continue from that last part, you were struggling to stay conscious”, he prompts me and I continue.

“My attacker was an older boy that I have seen Zack talking to before after school, he’s holding a metal bat”, I tell them, “he’s surprised I’m still conscious and I get called a freak of nature I think. I manage to get back to my feet and duck the next swing before trying to run away, but Zack trips me. To prevent me from struggling, the older kid kicked me in the stomach and made me vomit.” Logan speaks up at this point, asking, “why didn’t you try to use your powers to defend yourself half pint or to escape?” “My head hurt so badly, it made it hard to focus”, I sob, breaking down crying, “and I got told to come quietly unless I wanted more pre-punishment punishment.” “Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart”, Jean responds, rubbing my back, “but why did these boys believe you needed to be punished?” “I caused another incident in gym class today that resulted in dodgeball getting banned”, I admit in embarrassment, “and I didn’t get in trouble for almost strangling the gym teacher because the public safety officer wouldn’t leave Principal Kelly’s office until he heard my side.” The Professor groans at that information, “we’ll be discussing that incident later”, he informs me, “but please continue about the attack.” “I tried to do my ‘heavy ragdoll’ act but it turns out this older kid is on the football team and, with some effort, is able to lift me. I think Zack called him Kyle and mentioned he’s his older brother as a way to brag. Since he could lift me, I tried struggling once more and he threw me onto the pavement causing me to hit my head once more. I give up trying to escape at that point and let him drag me away by my hair”, I whimper, trembling from the remembered panic.

“I get dragged to the football field where more older boys are waiting and they surround me as soon as I’m pushed to the ground”, I continue, crying harder now, “they seem a bit skeptical about me deserving a beating because of my appearance. Zack tells them my ‘crimes’ and when I talk back, he kicks me in the gut next. Kyle tells him to play lookout at the car, to keep them all out of trouble should someone come to investigate, and he leaves. I try one more time to run away, but the group of boys close around me and push me back towards Kyle. At this point I try to raise a barrier, but the attempt almost makes me pass out. They start discussing how to punish me when Kyle draws a knife. This makes the boys start questioning his sanity but still won’t let me run away and allow Kyle to grab me by the hair to chop some of it off.” My breathing picks up at this point as I continue. “He cut my face and slashed my chest with the knife”, I choke out, “and my mind goes blank after that. I must have passed out.” I open my watery eyes to stare into the Professor’s, pleading to him, “I’m sorry Professor, but I can’t remember anything afterwards.” “I told you that was her blood on the knife”, Logan growls, clearly pissed, but Jean ignores him to check my chest. While there is a slash in the shirt, along with some dried blood, there is no wound meaning I healed it. “She has healed the knife wounds at least”, she announces, cupping my face in her hands as I begin to break down, “but the fact that a teenager would even use a knife on a child completely baffles me. Clearly this individual is disturbed and has sociopathic tendencies.” “In any case”, Logan remarks, still angry, “if it turns out she did attack those boys she has a strong case for self defense. That’s my opinion”, he adds glaring at Jean, “and when Scott returns from his trip and hears about this I will fight him on the issue. If it wasn’t for her healing factor she would already be dead from the head injuries alone.” She tries to argue, but the Professor cuts her off before she can get a word out. “I have to agree with Logan”, he states, sounding tired and worried, “if we look at this rationally, we have at least one high schooler who wasn’t hesitant to use deadly force on a ten year old. We should go to the police before this hits the news.”

“If we go to the cops she’ll be outed as a mutant when it becomes clear she’s already healed from her injuries”, Logan argues defensively, but Jean retorts, “but if we seek them out before they become aware of Dani’s involvement it will look less suspicious that we are hiding a mutant attack.” “I don’t want to, Mommy, I’m scared”, I cry out, feeling myself revert slightly into my timid shell, “what if the bad people come to take me away. Stryker said there are others out there.” “Calm down and breathe sweetheart”, she says soothingly, giving me a hug as I start hyperventilating, “the bad people will never take you away ever again.” Seeing how much distress I’m in at the moment, the Professor suggests, “we should let her rest before involving the police. The stress right now could cause her to shut down mentally and she’s still healing her head injuries.” A wave of exhaustion hits me like a freight train at his words as the adrenaline caused by my panic recedes from my body. “I’m sleepy”, I mumble, starting to lean heavily into Jean’s arms. Logan helps her lay me back down and she checks my eyes one last time before declaring, “she’s out of the woods at least. Letting her sleep until dinner should help her finish healing.” “Can I sleep in my room”, I moan and, with some regret, she answers, “unfortunately no, I still want to monitor your condition and run some minor brain scans for anything I may have missed.” “Okay”, I pout as she kisses my forehead and I close my eyes. I nod off before she is even finished putting the nodes on my head for the brain scan.

My second nap helps get rid of my concussion for good and Jean allows me to eat dinner with everyone who, by now, has heard about what happened to me. Scott is a little peeved at my excessive force on my attackers, should it be proven I did attack them, but, at least, agrees with the Professor and Logan’s assessment that it was all done in self defense. After dinner, I head to the living room to complete my homework and Scott finds me later struggling on math. He sighs, leaving the room shortly, and returns holding the stack of multiplication flashcards he made. Groaning in frustration, I beg, “please don’t, at least not tonight”, to him as he sits down next to me on the couch and holds up a flashcard. “No can do kiddo”, he replies, “these exercises will help you struggle less with math and hopefully allow you to turn in more tests with correct answers. Now, what’s nine times six?” “Um… fifty four”, I ask, staring at the card and hoping it would burst into flames. “Are you asking me or telling me”, he retorts, slightly annoyed and I start doing my internal head count. After a few minutes, I state with more confidence, “it’s fifty four”, and he responds, “that is correct, but you need to start remembering this without your head counting. That’s what is slowing you down the most and it will make the more advanced multiplication and division problems an absolute nightmare for you. Now, what’s four times seven?”

Scott continues drilling me, as I slowly finish my math homework, when Storm and Jean rush in to turn on the local news channel. Logan and the Professor follow in close behind them and Scott, in confusion, asks, “what’s going on?” The newscaster answers his question a second later by saying, “about three hours ago, several high school football stars were found beaten and unconscious at the school’s football field.” My heart enters my throat as they continue, “all the boys were rushed to the hospital with severe injuries. All the boys had their legs broken while a couple had broken wrists. A young boy found at the scene, whose older brother is one of the victims, kept yelling at the police that a female classmate did this despite there being no other children at the scene. Surveillance was shut off at the field before the possible fight and, with the players unable to remember what happened, no other evidence was found to support his claims. Wait, hold on”, the newscaster says, listening to someone off screen and announces, “this just in, police have appeared to have found video evidence from the elementary school’s surveillance cameras and are letting us show it in hopes that it will help identify the victim in the footage. Now I must warn you, the footage isn’t the greatest quality and the images you’re about to see are disturbing.” The screen cuts to a grainy black and white video showing me getting attacked and dragged away before cutting back to the newscaster. “It would appear the claims given to the police by the rest of the football players not involved in the incident are true. They claimed that the young boy found at the scene asked his brother and his friends to beat up a fellow classmate and feel bad that they didn’t take the threat seriously. Again, no other children were found at the scene but it’s altogether quite possible someone saved them, allowing them to escape. If you have any information, please call the hotline on your screen to…” 

Storm turns off the tv in disbelief. “We should go to the police now and file a report, especially if none of the boys have any recollection of this”, she states before asking the Professor, “do you think they are lying to cover their own skins?” “Why are you even complaining”, Logan counters, “with the video evidence alone we have a case of self defense, if they can even identify her from the footage, and we can easily say the stress of the situation caused her X-gene to activate if it comes out she’s a mutant.” “We are not lying to the cops Logan”, Scott yells, causing me to flinch, “and I don’t think those boys are lying. With how many anti mutant groups are popping up, like the FoH, they can spin this story to further their agendas. A mutant attack at a school will just add more fuel to the fire and we’ll all be in trouble if it comes out we hid her status.” “That leaves only one answer”, Jean says anxiously, “someone came and wiped the memories of those boys after the fact, but who would do that and why?” “Hang on, are you saying that there may have been someone else involved in this attack”, Logan states, crossing his arms with confusion written on his face, “are there even mutants, besides the Professor, that can wipe a person’s memory and take out a group of teenagers without leaving a scrap of evidence?” “Actually”, the Professor answers, “there are several psychic mutants with that particular ability, all it really takes is a strong telepath with some training and control to alter or even erase someone’s memories.” He looks at me and asks for entry into my mind again and, confused, I grant him access. I can feel him quietly search my head for clues for several minutes before I hear him whisper, “I was afraid of this.” “Afraid of what Professor”, I ask, afraid when he looks at me with extreme concern upon leaving my head. “Dani, you are the one responsible for your memory loss”, he explains aloud, “and I’m certain if I look in the minds of those boys, I will find you erased theirs as well.”

Everyone is now looking at me, shocked by this new revelation, while I internally have a panic attack at the implications. “There’s no way”, Logan responds in my defense, “she just started being successful at opening and maintaining telepathic links to non telepaths last week.” “He’s right Professor”, Scott agrees, “it can’t possibly be her with her current power control.” “I’m sorry but the psychic residue on her mind pertaining to this event is hers and hers alone”, the Professor explains adamantly, “somehow, someway, Dani did do this.” “NO”, I shout, standing abruptly from the couch and knocking my math notebook to the floor, “I didn’t do this!” They all stare at me with mixed expressions of worry, shock, and confusion as I try to back away from them. “There’s no other explanation Dani”, the Professor expresses calmly, “please remain calm.” I go to bolt in panic, forgetting Scott was beside me on the couch, and he grabs me to prevent me from leaving. “You’re not in trouble”, he tries to reassure me while holding me in place, “we just want to help you.” My breathing picks up as I struggle to get him to let me go and, in my fear, panic, and confusion, I find myself unable to understand what anyone is saying to me. Scott holds me tighter, yelling something to Jean but I don’t know what because suddenly my mind snaps like a rubber band and everything looks crystal clear. I stop my struggles, going still in the man’s arms, and crack my neck. “Let me go or you’ll regret it”, I state robotically, glaring at the people surrounding me. “What the hell”, the man holding me mumbles, but doesn’t make a move to let me go as Master Stryker’s words echo through my brain. “She is the perfect weapon gentleman”, he says proudly, “and by the time this demonstration is over, you’ll agree.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani has a violent episode that results in discovering what probably happened at the football field.

I jab my elbow full force into my captor’s gut, causing him to loosen his grip on me as he tries to not double over in pain. Grabbing one of his arms, I flip him over my shoulder at the red haired woman and watch in satisfaction when they both fall to the ground. “Before anyone asks”, a tall man I recognize from the simulations yells, “I did NOT teach her that”, before charging to tackle me. “Weapon X”, I hiss, ducking out of the way of his attempt to subdue me, “adamantium skeleton, claws, and regenerative healing.” “What the hell are you talking about half pint”, Weapon X asks, clearly confused, but I ignore him when I notice the air in the room is picking up into a wind somehow. The white haired woman’s eyes are pure white, the wind flying around her in a mini tornado before she sends it my way. I block the air with a barrier and growl at her angrily. “Let’s see how well you control air when you can’t breathe”, I think with malice, focusing another barrier around her and depriving it of oxygen. She drops to her knees in shock as she slowly starts to suffocate. “That’s enough Dani”, Weapon X roars, placing me into a chokehold, “you’re going to kill her if you don’t stop.” His grabbing me breaks my focus on the airless barrier and the white haired woman starts coughing from the sudden resurgence of air in her lungs. “Keep holding her Logan”, the bald man in the wheelchair orders, closing his eyes, and soon I feel him try to enter my mind. “Stay out of my head”, I scream, forcing him out and raising a psionic shield to prevent reentry.

“She’s shut me out”, the bald man yells, “you’ll have to knock her out Logan”. “Sorry kiddo”, Weapon X states, guilt lacing his voice for some strange reason, and starts trying to tighten his grip on the chokehold. “What the hell”, he growls when, instead of cutting off my air supply, his arms loosen their grip and I wiggle out of his hold. “What are you doing Logan”, the red haired lady yells worriedly and he replies, “I don’t know, I can’t seem to control my limbs.” His claws spring free of their own volition and everyone, but me, watches in horror when he stabs himself with them. I get blasted through the window by a beam of red light, slamming into a tree with a snarl. My original captor puts their red glasses back on and I realize they are the source of the blast. Before he can take aim to hit me again I send a psionic blast of energy into his brain, causing him to fall to the ground screaming in pain while clutching his head. The bald man, in obvious desperation, starts forcing his way through my psionic shield in order to stop my assault and I become frustrated that he is winning. Letting out a primal yell, I lift shards of glass from the broken window off the ground and fling them at him. The red haired woman jumps in front of him, raising a force field of her own to prevent my projectiles from finding their target. “Jean”, Weapon X asks, having healed from his injuries, “I think she can control metal. What should I do if she’s rendered me unable to get close to her?” His unwillingness to fight me sends more confusion though my mind and the red haired lady uses that momentary lapse to plead, “Dani, we’re your family and we all love you. Please stop fighting us.”

My confusion is replaced with rage at the word “family” and I grab her by the throat with telekinesis, pulling her towards me. “Family? My family abandoned me”, I snarl at her, “if you are my family, you all deserve to DIE.” I throw her into a different tree, watching her crumple to the ground in pain before turning my eyes back to my remaining foes. “Logan you have to stop her or distract her long enough for the Professor to get through to her”, the man with red glasses informs Weapon X before I send an even stronger wave of psionic energy into his brain and he falls unconscious from the assault. Weapon X draws his claws, getting into a defensive stance when I start advancing on him, and states, “I don’t want to fight and hurt you kiddo. Please don’t make me put you down half pint.” I go to retort , but get distracted by a blaze of fire appearing from the corner of my eye. The red haired woman has gotten back to her feet and has flames surrounding her in a fiery aura. I send a telekinetic blast at her, but she deflects it easily and comes flying at me, the flames taking on the shape of a bird. I raise a barrier to stop her, but she overpowers and breaks it, grabbing a hold of me to pin me between her and a tree. The fire starts dying down, but never leaves her eyes, as she cries in desperation, “Dani, sweetheart, calm down. It’s okay, you’re safe. Please come back to us, to me.” Tears begin falling from her eyes as she cups my face in her hands. “You are stronger than what Stryker tried to make you”, she states with confidence as her words start forming a schism in my mind, “show me you can fight this.”

“Mommy”, I mutter in confusion, being brought back to the present and think, “what’s going on? Why am I hurting everyone?” “That’s right sweetheart”, she responds, “I’m your mom and I need you to stop fighting.” An internal war breaks out in my mind, causing me to scream as a fight breaks out between myself and what the latest memory of Stryker had turned me into. That momentary lapse allows the bald man to gain full entry into my mind, breaking through my defenses with ease, and I suddenly remember. “Professor”, I whisper, tears falling from my face as the adrenaline drains from my body and I feel myself go limp against the tree, “Mommy.” “Logan, get out here”, Jean yells, realizing I’m on the verge of collapsing when she starts to struggle to keep me on my feet, “she’s starting to fall unconscious and I need your help.” The memory I unlocked starts playing in my head and, almost on instinct, I reach out to touch Jean’s face. She gasps at the connection as the awful memory flows into her mind as well.

I’m on the football field surrounded by the football players before the image morphs into a cement room filled with soldiers. The soldiers have their weapons drawn, pointed at me as I stare blankly at them. “One of you is a traitor to the Weapon X Program”, I inform them in a robotic tone, “Master Stryker has ordered me to find out who it is by any means necessary.” The soldiers begin shooting me as I advance upon them, but the bullets do nothing to stop me from dispatching them all one by one. Soon they lay on the floor, screaming from the pain of their broken legs, unable to escape. “Now X-2, search their minds and wipe their memories of this incident clean”, Stryker orders behind me and I comply without question. Going one by one, I grab each of the soldier’s heads before searching and destroying information from their brains with telepathy. The soldiers I have finished working on soon litter the ground unconscious and drooling. “This one is the traitor sir, but his partner who let X-46 escape has already gone back to his superiors”, I tell Stryker without any emotion. “Good X-2”, he praises me before addressing someone I can’t see. “You see General, she’s perfect in every way and obedient to commands. With your permission, I wish to make her even more powerful to surpass her predecessor by conducting the adamantium bonding procedure. As you can see from my research notes she’ll not only survive but also continue to grow through her power over metal. She’ll not only be indestructible, she’ll be the perfect weapon.”

The memory fades and my breathing becomes ragged from the implications as I start trembling in fear. “Shh, it’s okay”, Jean tells me, hugging me in her arms when I break down sobbing, “everything is going to be okay.” “What happened Jean”, Logan asks, seeing tears running down her face, “are you okay?” “Logan, please take her”, she pleads to him, using telekinesis to lift me into his arms, “I’m hoping your scent will help relax her.” I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing harder into his shoulder, and take irregular breaths of his scent. “My god, what happened”, the shocked voice of Miss Rogue asks and I look up from Logan’s shoulder to see her coming into the living room with Gambit. “Is everyone all right”, Gambit asks in concern, “why didn’t you call us if there was an attack?” Looking at the broken window and Scott’s still unconscious body, the shock of what happened and what I did finally sinks in. “I did this”, I think in horror, retreating into my head to process the incident and bury my face back into Logan’s shoulder. “Everything is fine now”, the Professor responds reassuringly and, even though I can’t see him, I can feel his eyes on me when he adds quietly, “I believe we found our answer to a very important question.”

I get brought to the Professor’s office by Logan, with the rest of the adults following, and he tries to place me gently onto the couch. I cling tighter to him shaking my head no, since I’m too shell shocked to speak, and let out a small whimper. “Jean, she doesn’t want me to put her down”, he says in concern, “is she okay?” “She remembered a painful memory”, she whispers, petting my hair, “once everyone is settled, and Scott is fully conscious, I will explain what she showed the Professor and I. In all honesty, you are probably the only reason she hasn’t completely shut down at this point since you know what she’s been through.” He understands and sits down with me still holding on to him as Jean goes to check Scott. “It’s okay half pint”, he whispers in my ear, rubbing my back gently, “I got you.” His grip tightens a bit when Jean starts describing what I shared telepathically to her and the Professor when she snapped me out of my crazed state, realizing why I’m so shaken. “I believe that those boys attacking her subconsciously triggered this memory and she reenacted it without realizing it”, the Professor explains. “It’s becoming abundantly clear that Dani had full control of most of her powers, whilst in the hands of Stryker, but not of her free will.” “My god”, Storm exclaims, horrified, “with the amount of sadistic experiments Stryker has done to other mutants, that we know about at least, who knows what kind of torture he put Dani through to break her spirit.” “It would also appear”, the Professor continues, “that when these kinds of… episodes are triggered, Dani goes into an almost autopilot state and instinctually remembers the training Stryker instilled in her. He most likely even forced her through training scenarios to defeat and capture you Logan based upon her calling you ‘Weapon X’. In fact, it looked like she didn’t seem to recognize any of us except you.”

“Then explain what could have possibly triggered this latest episode”, Scott groans unhappily, “we are her family. There’s nothing we could have done that would cause her to freak out. We were only trying to calm her down.” “Well you did grab her and wouldn’t let her run away”, Logan points out dryly, “did you ever stop to think that this might be your fault? We all should know by now that she tries to run when she’s angry or scared and that she reacts badly to those who try to stop her.” Scott goes to argue, but Jean cuts him off by snapping, “don’t even start, I am NOT in the mood for you two to start an argument.” “Jean is correct”, the Professor agrees, sighing, “and, as to what potentially set off this episode, it could have been any number of things. We don’t know the full extent of the psychological and physical abuse she’s had to endure at the lab or how long she was forced to endure it before she broke. All information pertaining to her was, most likely, stored at the lab and was lost when it flooded. Everything we know so far is mostly through trial and error, guesswork, and what I have gleaned from our weekly telepathic therapy sessions. While Scott grabbing her and not allowing her to escape might have contributed in triggering her, it wasn’t the only thing.”

I start shaking on Logan’s lap, something both he and Jean notice immediately. “Dani”, she asks, putting a hand on my head, “sweetie, are you okay?” “I… I had no c… c… control over my b… body”, I answer, stuttering from fear. “I c… could see everything happening, b… b… but I couldn’t s… stop.” Looking directly into Logan’s eyes I ask, “why couldn’t I stop”, in desperation before burying my head back into his shoulder. “Shh, shh, it’s okay half pint”, he assures me, rubbing my back to keep me calm. He lifts my chin a moment later and adds, “I know exactly what that feels like”, giving me a look of understanding, “and I know how frightening it can be.” “Thank you”, I whisper, a few tears leaking from my eyes before I dejected ask aloud to no one in particular, “why does this keep happening to me?” “I only have theories”, the Professor regretfully answers, “but none I can truly test, so try not to worry Dani.” “But what will happen if I kill someone”, I ask worriedly, noticing Logan tense up and exchange a concerned look with the Professor. “I already have, haven’t I”, I press, feeling immense amounts of guilt, “who did I kill?” “It doesn’t matter kiddo”, Logan replies quickly, “but the fact that you look upset shows us you truly don’t want or like to hurt people.” “But I almost suffocated Storm and threw glass shards at the Professor”, I cry, starting to shake again, “what if I succeed next time? I AM the cold-blooded killer Stryker made me.” “Oh honey”, Jean says confidently, seating next to Logan so she can stroke my hair, “we would never allow that to happen and, no matter what, you are stronger than what Stryker TRIED to make you. We’ve stopped your outbursts before, without serious injuries, and will do it again if necessary.”

Scott scoffs at Jean, giving, what I can only guess because of his glasses, a “seriously” look at her which makes me blush in embarrassment. I still feel guilty when it was explained that I was the reason he was limping for a couple weeks, even though I don’t remember. She ignores his glare, grabbing my hand instead to start humming her usual lullaby to calm me down. Like always, it works and I start to feel sleepy. “I think that’s enough for tonight”, the Professor announces, no doubt noticing my drowsiness, “Dani should probably get a good night sleep since we’ll have to file a police report tomorrow.” I stiffen, growing anxious despite the lullaby and Jean pauses her humming. “We need to file a report sweetheart”, she explains, “otherwise the boys won’t get fully punished. You don’t want them to get away with attacking you, do you?” I shake my head, but still ask, “what will happen if it comes out I’m a mutant and that we kept it secret? Principal Kelly will expel me, or worse, everyone will bully me even worse.” “If he tries to expel you because of your mutant status, we will sue for discrimination,” Scott informs me, “and anyways, I thought you wanted people to know you’re a mutant.” “I wanted only certain people to know and on my own terms”, I snarl in anger before snapping out of the sudden rage with a gasp.

The Professor sighs once more before addressing Jean and Scott. “Tomorrow, after we’ve contacted the police, I’m going to contact our good friend Dr Hank McCoy and see if he would be interested in becoming one of our mathematics instructors. With his intellect, and background in biochemistry, he may have ideas we have not thought of yet in regards to young Dani’s sudden bursts of anger and increasingly violent behavior. Shame fills me as I slump my shoulders at the Professor’s words and he assures me, “that was not meant to insult you Dani, however, it still is a concern as your powers continue to grow. Do you understand?” “I understand”, I respond quietly, still feeling shame that I’m causing my loved ones so much trouble. “Well it’s definitely time for bed sweetheart”, Jean says, standing up from the couch, “do you think you can get to bed on your own or will you need help?” I slide off Logan’s lap onto the couch, before going to stand on my own, and he has to quickly catch me when my knees buckle under me. “I’m going to need help”, I groan in embarrassment, turning red when he has to pick me up again. “There’s nothing wrong with needing help”, he teasingly tells me, “you’ve had a long, trying day and it’s a wonder you haven’t fallen asleep already.” I relax at his words and look at everyone sheepishly before saying, “good night everyone, sorry about the living room.” “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time something like this has happened”, Storm says, smiling, “and it most certainly will not be the last”, Scott adds with a groan, making me wonder on my way to bed exactly how many times parts of the Institute have been destroyed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small bit of a time skip. Beast becomes Dani's new doctor and the first weekend of summer runs test to find out how she's possibly growing.
> 
> Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, life has been super busy this week with work. Please enjoy the chapter and if you have any questions, comment below.

Several months later… 

Kyle got arrested and, later, sentenced to 20 years in jail because of the video evidence and my testimony at the trial. Zack, pissed that his brother was thrown in jail, made it his mission to out me as a liar and, ultimately, got expelled for his efforts. The rest of the football players involved in the incident were suspended and thrown off the team but, because none of them had any memory of the incident after agreeing to punish me with Kyle, they weren’t punished badly with the law. The rest of the third grade passed by in a blur due, mostly, to how badly I withdrew into my head to protect myself from the increased bullying I endured for the incident. The Professor ended up having to increase my weekly therapy sessions to three times a week to help me cope and prevent me from regressing back to my scared, timid self from the trauma. I got introduced to Dr Hank McCoy after he arrived, having accepted the Professor’s offer, and he became absolutely fascinated with my slow aging. After a long discussion with the others, mainly the Professor, Jean, and Logan in regards to how I might react mentally, Dr McCoy becomes my primary doctor and, once summer vacation starts, if I have started to retreat less into my mind, he would be giving me a full physical examination. Logan, in the end, was the most successful at bringing me back to reality before the school year ended though. Spring Break, to “get away from all the bullshit”, he was able to snap me out of the mental fugue by taking me camping to take my mind off of the stress and anxiety from the trial.

It’s the first weekend of summer vacation when Jean brings me down to the medical bay for my first ever physical by Dr McCoy and, in worry, I ask, “I won’t have to go into the x-ray machine”, as she helps me into a medical gown. “I honestly don’t know sweetheart”, she answers, patting my head, “Hank is the leading mind on genetics and biochemistry so, for all I know, he’ll only be doing a standard physical along with some blood work.” “Partially true Jean”, Dr McCoy answers as he enters the med bay with Logan. I look at Logan in confusion, that he mirrors, trying to think of a logical reason why he’d be her when I hear the distinct hum of the dreaded x-ray machine powering up. My reaction is instantaneous to the sound and I fly, back first, into the ceiling moaning, “no, no, no, please, no”, in fear. “I told you this was going to happen Beast”, Logan comments snidely as he gives my terrified face a look of understanding, “she hates most medical devices, especially anything that reminds her of the adamantium procedure. Besides”, he adds a tad annoyed, “we know her skeleton is like mine. Why do you want to confirm the obvious?” “Logan”, Beast answers in his own annoyance, “in order to figure out HOW Dani is growing, despite having an unbreakable skeleton, I am going to need to run many tests to rule out my current theories.” He looks at me on the ceiling and, with a sigh, asks Jean, “do you think you can coax her down for me please?” “I can tell you already”, I snarl, minor anger replacing my fear, “it’s not happening and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. Now, back off you furry, blue ape.”

“Logan stop encouraging her”, Jean snaps when she notices his poor attempt to suppress a smile, “and you”, she adds to me, “get off the ceiling before you fall onto your face. We don’t know how long you can maintain that position before you tire yourself out.” I shake my head no, determined to stay on the ceiling until Beast turns off the machine and he puts his face into his paw with a groan. “The Professor warned me she could be quite stubborn”, he comments, clearly trying to think of a solution. “Logan, she trusts you right”, he asks pointedly at Logan and he responds, “not enough to convince her to get an x-ray”, with a scoff, crossing his arms, “and I’m not going to force her to do something that clearly scares her.” “That’s not what I meant”, Beast states exasperated, as a look of realization crosses Jean's face. “You want him to go into the machine to assure Dani there’s nothing to be scared of”, she exclaims, “why didn’t I think of that before?” With a sly grin, Logan teases her, “because Scott would assume that you wanted a reason to see me shirtless.” Blushing scarlet, she looks away when he takes off the white tank top he typically wears and lies down onto the x-ray’s table and I hear, “not a word”, in my head when I start to giggle. “See half pint”, he says with a smile as I slowly descend from the ceiling, “nothing to worry about.” “It’s when the machine turns on and I’m shoved into it”, I mutter, walking to his side, “it’s too loud, bright, and I panic from the enclosed feeling of being inside of it.” “But as you will see”, Beast comments, manning the computer, “it’ll be over in less than two minutes”, and he pushes a button, causing the table Logan is lying on to slide into the machine.

The machine starts making it’s loud clicking noise as the bright lights inside turn on to take the pictures. Looking at the pictures being displayed on the screen, I analyze them in curiosity. “What are these”, I ask confusedly, pointing at what appears to be extra bones in each of Logan’s forearms. “Those would be Logan’s claws sweetie”, Jean explains, “when they are not extended, they are stored in his arms otherwise he’d be unable to bend his wrists.” I nod, slightly understanding as the machine stops making the clicking noise and he slides out again. After getting off the table, he kneels in front of me and cups my face in his hands. “Now it’s your turn kiddo”, he tells me gently, “but you still have the choice to not do this if it still bothers you.” Looking at the machine, I mumble, “I’ll try, but I can’t promise I won’t freak out again”, and climb onto the table. “Now remember”, Beast informs me, “try not to move or the pictures will be unclear”, and I give a curt nod before being slid into the machine. I try to relax as the clicking starts, but tense up and close my eyes in fear when the bright lights turn on.

I don’t even realize I am holding my breath until I hear Logan whisper, “breathe kiddo, it’s over now.” In shaky gasps, I scramble off the table and cling to him before I can start to tremble, breathing in his scent to calm myself. “Hey, it’s okay half pint”, he says, hugging me and stroking my hair, “you did very well.” “Please don’t make me do that ever again”, I whisper, starting to relax and become aware that Beast and Jean are discussing the results. “Amazing”, Beast states in wonder, staring at the pictures, “her metal density is somehow greater than Logan’s.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean” Logan growls, “are you saying Stryker put more metal in her than he did me?” “It means I’m going to need you to stay a little while longer Logan” Beast answers in an apologetic tone. “As the only other known mutant with an adamantium skeleton and a healing factor, I’m going to need you to compare Dani’s tests to. My original theory is starting to look more promising, but I’m going to need blood samples and run some other tests to fully confirm it.” I sigh at the mention of blood and go to sit on one of the exam tables. “Let’s get this over with”, I groan, sticking my arm out towards them. “Is there any way I can persuade you to go back into the machine”, Beast asks with some regret, “you started clenching your fists mid scan and it caused the picture of your hands to be blurred.” I glare at him venomously and Logan steps in front of Beast to distract me. “Just be glad you got her in there in the first place Beast”, Jean answers, “I have a feeling forcing her back in will result in a broken machine and a pissed off Wildcat.”

Beast, after accepting that the pictures he got were as good as he was going to get, draws a few vials of blood from both Logan and I. After putting the samples into a few different machines, he asks me to follow him out of the room. “Why”, I ask, suddenly suspicious of going anywhere with him alone, “and where?” “I programmed a little game for you in the Danger Room to pass the time while we wait for the results”, he answers with a smile, “I think you’ll find it enjoyable.” “Can Mama and Logan come too”, I counter, causing him to hesitate before answering. “Logan’s presence might make the game a little harder to play”, he tries to explain, but I cut him off. “How could he make it harder to play a game”, I ask in confusion, “what kind of game is this?” He seems at a loss for words at how to explain and Jean, probably after reading his mind, states, “Logan’s presence will not interfere with what you have planned Hank”, making me start to wonder exactly what he has planned for me. “Then I guess it’s entirely up to Logan on whether or not he wants to tag along”, he says with a tone. With a pleading look to Logan to counteract Beast’s effort to get him to say no, I break out my pouty face for added effect. He answers, chuckling to show I’ve won, “now how can I say no to that face?” “Easy, you learn”, Jean answers, smacking him upside the head for falling for my pout. “And if you ever want to take Dani camping again I suggest you learn fast or she’ll con you into letting her do whatever she wants.” With a blush, he says, “I was kidding, I’m honestly curious to see what kind of game Beast made and what purpose it will serve. He doesn’t usually make scenarios for fun.”

As we follow Beast to the Danger Room, Jean mindspeaks to me, “this game will be challenging sweetheart, but don’t be afraid to admit if it’s too hard.” “Okay Mama” I reply back, now very curious about the object of the game, “do you know what game I’m playing?” “You’ll see”, is all she responds to me, making me realize one point of the game is to keep the objective a secret from me. “Now, the object of the game is simple enough”, Beast explains, grabbing the portable control pad for the Danger Room and tapping it a few times. Several small wooden tables, each housing a wooden box flipped upside down, appear before me, “which box is different” he asks me and I give him a blank stare, after looking at the boxes in confusion for a minute, before responding, “how? They are all identical.” “Yes, the boxes are identical on the outside” he answers, clearly not happy that I’m not understanding what I need to be doing, “but under each box is an object. I want you, without lifting any of the boxes, to ascertain which box’s object is different from the rest using your powers.” “Huh”, I reply, even more confused at what he wants me to do. Jean adds, sensing my confusion, “what he means, in simple terms, is he wants you to reach out with your mind to sense what may be in each box.” I glance at Logan, who also has a face that shows he thinks her and Beast are nuts, but decide to oblige in their plan. With a deep breath, I reach out to the first box with my powers and try to feel what’s in it.

As I expected, I feel absolutely nothing, but continue onto the second box regardless of feeling like this is some elaborate prank. The results for the second box are the same as the first and, after trying the third box, I complain. “What is the point of this stupid game”, I growl in frustration, “the first three boxes could be empty for all I know.” “You still have four boxes left”, Beast remarks, disregarding my frustrations, “if you don’t feel anything by the time you finish with the last box, it’s okay.” I groan, thinking, “still not helpful”, and debate just reaching into his mind to find out the true objective of the game. Jean scolds me telepathically at that thought and, with a sigh of defeat, I reach out again with my powers towards box number three again before moving onto box number four. As I move onto box number five, however, I am surprised to feel something in it though I have no idea what. “Should I mention this now”, I think, or check the last two first?” “Dani”, Logan asks questioningly, pulling me from my thoughts, “you alright there kiddo? You’ve been staring at that box longer than the others.” “There’s something in this one”, I growl in annoyance, “but I can’t tell what it is and it’s bugging me.” Beast presses the control panel’s screen and the wooden boxes are quickly replaced with colored plastic boxes. “Hey”, I yell in surprise, “I didn’t even look at the last two yet. What gives?” “You found the object that was different so I moved you onto the next level”, Beast answers with a shrug, smiling. “Now, doing what you did before, which box is different?”

The game continues on for some time before I eventually lose my temper at the stupidity of it. Honing in on the box that was different, I blast it with telekinetic energy and send the box flying into the wall with a crash. The now uncovered items lay out on the table, revealing it to be a keychain with many keys on it, which makes me blast the rest of the boxes off the tables to reveal their objects. A toothbrush, a small stack of paper, a box of playing cards, a stuffed animal, some fruit, and a rubber ball are what I find under the other boxes, showing regular mundane items. In a roar of anger, I scream, “what is the point of this stupid game Beast”, and lift the items into the air to aim at him. “Whoa, calm down Wildcat”, Logan quickly shouts, putting himself between Beast and I, “I know you’re frustrated and probably feel like a performing monkey, but throwing things won’t help this situation.” He approaches me as one would approach a skittish animal, arms displayed out to show he means no harm, and the levitating objects fall to the ground when I do the calming breathing exercises the Professor taught me during one of my therapy sessions. Logan lets out a sigh of relief and ruffles my hair when he sees I’ve calmed myself down. “In case you thought we were joking Beast”, he states with some irritation, “Dani does indeed have a temper and you were about to be on the receiving end of it.” “It would appear you’re right”, he responds, warily approaching us, “but it would also appear that you can calm her down. Why exactly did you request me to make special tranquilizers to sedate her Jean?” “For in case she truly loses control of her temper”, she answers sadly, “she goes into an autopilot state and it will be safer for everyone if we don’t have to fight my little Wildcat to wear her out every time she goes wild.” Shame fills me as I look down at the ground and Logan puts his finger under my chin. “Chin up kiddo, you’re still learning”, he assures me before snapping at Beast, “now will you enlighten us on what the point of this little game was BESIDES testing Dani’s patience?”

“I was using this game to test Dani for a specific power and, if the blood results are different like I’ve predicted, that will explain her ability to slowly grow”, Beast replies exasperated before adding, “I swear, you two are cut from the same cloth.” “No we aren’t”, I mutter, shoulders sinking in disappointment, “Mama ran all sorts of tests, trying to see who I could possibly be related to, and she came up with no results.” Beast has a skeptical look on his face when he looks at Jean, but doesn’t try to comment on the matter. Instead, Jean quickly changes the subject by saying, “the blood analysis should be finished by now. Perhaps Hank will explain the purpose of this training scenario after checking the results.” Suspicion grows in the corner of my mind at how quick she was to change the subject, but I try not to think too much of it. “If anything, if she did find out who I’m related to she probably didn’t tell me since I’m still angry that they abandoned me”, I think as I follow everyone back to the med bay. “It’s either that, or they’re dead and she wishes to spare me the heartache of never getting to ask WHY they were so willing to give me up.”

After Beast analyzes the data from our blood tests, he exclaims loudly, “I knew it!” “Care to share your findings to the rest of us furball”, Logan asks sarcastically, making me smile from his attitude. “The Professor made me aware about the fight that led him to call me in the first place”, he explains to us, “and he told me that during that fight you”, he points to Logan, “mentioned you thought Dani was able to control metal despite showing no signs of having that power before or after the fight.” “I thought we established that she simply used telekinesis to make Logan let her go and stab himself”, Jean states with worry, “the only reason he thought it was through metal manipulation was because the only other person who’s ever controlled his movements before was Magneto.” “Which is why I designed the program that Dani lost her patience playing”, Beast counters, handing her the tablet. “I designed it to show whether or not she has power over metal by detecting it without seeing it and, as you can see, she got every round correct.” “Okay fine, she can control metal”, Logan states, impatient, “what does that have to do with growing? You can’t possibly be thinking she’s somehow stretching the adamantium in her bones.” “That is precisely the reason why I requested a blood sample from you”, Beast answers with annoyance, “to see if there are any similarities or differences.” The possibility of similarities peaks my interest and I ask excitedly, “was anything the same?” “Um”, he hesitates, glancing at Jean uncomfortably for some reason, “it would appear you both have the same blood type, but that is a whole other matter in and of itself.” “How so”, Logan counters, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Beast sighs before answering, “because, until today, I have never seen a blood type fall outside the typical type categories. Yours is a completely new blood type altogether and makes me wonder if it has something to do with your healing factor.”

That information makes Jean groan, “I know you both can heal from every injury you’ve been dealt thus far, however, in the unlikely chance something happens to it I’m going to have to start storing your blood in case either of you need a transfusion.” “And I will definitely need more blood samples to run tests later”, Beast adds, “but we are getting a tad offtopic. To continue with our current tests, there was a significant difference between your blood samples. Logan’s shows traces of adamantium in his, undoubtedly produced from you bone marrow along with new blood, but in the case of Dani’s, hers shows no trace of adamantium.” “How is that possible”, Jean asks, perplexed. “My theory is Dani is subconsciously filtering the adamantium from her blood and rebonding it to her bones”, Beast answers. “It’s why the metal density is noticeably thicker on her bones compared to Logan’s in the x-ray and why her growth is so slow. I’d bet anything Stryker ran research on her and knew about this otherwise she would have died as her organs grow bigger.”

“But what about her aging Hank”, Jean counters in worry, “she’s been with us for four, going on five years now and still looks barely ten years old.” “Honestly, I have no answer to that”, Beast admits with regret. “Her slow aging could be a result of her healing factor constantly regenerating new cells or even as a way to prevent her from growing faster than her bones. However, without another child with this power to compare to it’s only an educated guess. We may have to accept that she ages at least four times slower than a regular child and, despite the calendar saying she should be 13-14 years old, she’s actually still ten.” I scowl at that news. “You mean that it’ll take me at least a decade or more to become a teenager”, I gripe, “that just sucks and the school is going to notice something’s up.” “Well I guess it’s a good thing you only have two more years of elementary left”, Jean teases, tapping my nose with a finger, “when you transfer here no one will care how old you look.” “Gee, thanks”, I reply unhappily, “until then I’m going to be stuck being the youngest, shortest kid in my class. Can I just not go back after summer break”, I ask with a whine. “Unless Scott drops dead, I think the answer is no half pint”, Logan commiserates before quickly adding, “and don’t go scheming ways to make him go away or I’ll never hear the end of it from your mother”, when Jean glares unamused at him. “Well there goes the rest of my summer plans”, I retort sarcastically, giving them all a sly grin and making Logan chuckle at my own little joke before ruffling my hair.


End file.
